Are you inlove with the one I am
or her?
why are you trying to bring the dead to life?
each time you pay a visit to her
you are dragging me along… don’t you see I am bleeding?
She, yes she was all I will be if HOPE is lost
for she was a living corpse…
You said you fell inlove with my laughter
her sound is a haunted echo…
I am here though alive and happy
and yes part of her is here,
all I don’t want to be…
I sing dance joyfully
she knows only of broken songs…
I am her and she is in me…
but I am her who choose to live…
she is the one who had no reason to breathe…
and he, yes he the one you look at
wondering if you too will belong in the past
he fell inlove with the broken one
I thought you loved the living
I can bring her, tell me is it her you want?
do you too have a thing for the broken ones?
I can bring her fourth… but not for too long
for I desire to live joyfully
cry when necessary but never
wish to vist hopelessness
I am her who choose to live
broken perhaps, for sure in the process of being repaired…
so why love? why do you keep dragging me
on broken glass visiting the past with lust?
