he's the figures of speech
the thought in every word
the late night scribbles
as the emotions pour
he's the ink in every page
the tear in every bridge
all the broken lines, unfinished ryhme
seems to be forgotten with time
he's the lyric that sends tingles to my spine
know me so well, never goes out of line
might not be the perfect work of art
but you've got a hold of me and spoke to my heart
