Texty: Phoenix Mourning. When Excuses Become Antiques. Niche.

I wear this heart on my sleeve to remind me . . .
to cherish the moments that we have shared.
a love so blissful and divine.
with this hatred we have entwined.

this heart will collapse at the site of you.
intangible at what your eyes always seem to do.
sight burns, sight seeks.
what is only what we call the truth.
because only in these eyes this site can see through.
now she renders her callous side.
(this heart still beats for you)

corridors with new beginnings.
sad stories with tragic endings.
he removes from his head this gun.
rewriting this book from page one.
and as tears fall unseen.
he begins chapter one of this tragedy.

carve out your niche in your wrist dismiss . . .
the emotions after you cease to exist.
and i swear to god i want to be changed.
but god swore to run through my blood with my name.

contented with the notion that this is the only path.
because change would only allow you to bury your past.
you can not bury what is deep inside of you.
its that fire in your eyes.
you read them like i do.
object to reflections of these new beginnings.
(this heart still beats for you)

corridors with new beginnings.
sad stories with tragic endings.
he removes from his head this gun.
rewriting this book from page one.
and his tears will fall unseen.

beginning to see the end so clear.
beginning to see what brought me here.
beginning to see you.
carve out your niche in your wrist.
its only now that you finally exist.

corridors with new beginnings.
sad stories with tragic endings.
he removes from his head this gun.
rewriting this book from page one.
as tears fall unseen.
he finishes chapter one of this . . .
story written in dreams.
its so serene when the prophet sings.
that silence is sacred

(Thanks to Robert for these lyrics)