I'll paint you a new shade. The color red. Sheer and mislead. The color of the hopeless dreamer, ruler of the imagination. It'll let the others know, just who you really are. Where they can find your heart. In a world of wild fantasies, of a place much like this, only opposite.
I watch you mend your heart, at the beginning of each new start. I watch it bleed from your hands every time you've broken it again. I see the sparkle of the tears that race against your cheek, warm and full of all the things you hate. Yet still, you refuse to walk away.
I admire that about you. You still think there's a reason for this life, a blue sky behind all the clouds, all the rain. And even with nothing but shame, you can always find a reason to love. A reason to get up, dust your wings off and fly again. For what?
No one really understands. Including you. You have no idea, and it's starting to show. Your laugh is softer, your eyes, more dull then before. You're starting t sink and the rope is getting weak. Still, you're holding on to your failed romantics and dreams of long-lasting love, as you're heart drains, losing all it's blood. Weak and weary, you sit alone, refuse to speak. And in the mirror I stay watching, wishing you could see. That you're getting faded, long faced and jaded. And as I watch the diamonds appear for one last time, reflecting in your eyes, I wait to see if you'll pick up the pieces one
last
time.
Pick yourself up, Doctor, you've got work to do.
It's not time to retire; It's time to Inspire.
I watch you mend your heart, at the beginning of each new start. I watch it bleed from your hands every time you've broken it again. I see the sparkle of the tears that race against your cheek, warm and full of all the things you hate. Yet still, you refuse to walk away.
I admire that about you. You still think there's a reason for this life, a blue sky behind all the clouds, all the rain. And even with nothing but shame, you can always find a reason to love. A reason to get up, dust your wings off and fly again. For what?
No one really understands. Including you. You have no idea, and it's starting to show. Your laugh is softer, your eyes, more dull then before. You're starting t sink and the rope is getting weak. Still, you're holding on to your failed romantics and dreams of long-lasting love, as you're heart drains, losing all it's blood. Weak and weary, you sit alone, refuse to speak. And in the mirror I stay watching, wishing you could see. That you're getting faded, long faced and jaded. And as I watch the diamonds appear for one last time, reflecting in your eyes, I wait to see if you'll pick up the pieces one
last
time.
Pick yourself up, Doctor, you've got work to do.
It's not time to retire; It's time to Inspire.
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