if what they say is true than me sitting here with my back
up against a tombstone won't do a thing to change the tides of time,
and me sitting here listening to the sad voices singing,
intertwined in harmony with sorrow won't do a thing to change
the rhymes that have been built up in your mind


and I could sit here, alone for a thousand times, reliving every moment spent
kissing underneath a gilded sky, in between the snakes and bones
retracing every faulty step

I've got the outline of your face memorized a billion times
and I could write it out in perfect reason just the way you taste
building up and folding to the pressure of your hands against my hips,
and your eyes on mine

but every time I close my eyes
you're blurred by tears, because you're singing and this voice isn't your's
this hand, it isn't mine

treading memory just hoping to catch a glimpse
this is not our life

we were never loved
at least not by each other


but I swear I've seen you in my dreams and I could tell you
just how perfectly you fit against me when we kiss


if what they say is true


me sitting next to wilted flowers, better set to decaying than decorating
on the uneven steps of a cracked and crooked masouleum
won't do a thing to change that I've only loved you in my dreams

they're closing the cemetary gates
but I think I'll sit a while longer, staring at the moon

how can something that's never been feel real?

perhaps this is what it feels like to finally lose your mind

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