Beyond The Glass

Dead End Ride

Sensing the breeze where your eyes pass by, 

Watching the thrill of my soul as she goes dry. 

My heart beats fast, how can I be brave with their prints on my flush, 

You are a vision that I'll never touch.

Your vast whispers are printed on my floor, I cringed them once in December, 

So before you go, could you light the lamp where I'll remember. 

Before you go and search for your glitter, you are on the hill, a free, 

Sometimes I go insane, making you crazy. 

But it doesn't feel enough beyond your glasses. 

Before you go I shall dress and walk beside the coffee shop, 

On the dead-end street, there is where I'll stop. 

It seems I'm the one who whistles flames, 

Sometimes I feel like I have a hole in my mind,

I want to get it out, but I keep riding the ride.