° Pitch black, pale blue,
It was a stained glass
Variation of the truth
And I felt empty handed.

You let me set sail
With cheap wood.
So I patched up
Every leak that I could,
'Til the blame grew too heavy.

Stitch by stitch I tear apart.
If brokenness is a form of art,
I must be a poster child prodigy.
Thread by thread I come apart.
If brokenness is a work of art,
Surely this must be my masterpiece.

I'm only honest when it rains.
If I time it right, the thunder breaks
When I open my mouth.
I want to tell you but I don't know how.

I'm only honest when it rains,
An open book with a torn out page,
And my ink's run out.
I want to love you but I don't know how.

Pitch black, pale blue,
These wild oceans
Shake what's left of me loose
Just to hear me cry mercy.

A strong wind at my back,
So I lift up the only sail that I have,
This tired white flag.

I'm only honest when it rains.
If I time it right, the thunder breaks
When I open my mouth.
I want to tell you but I don't know how. °

< Neptune >

° Sleeping at last °