I cannot sleep, I cannot eat, I cannot breathe and I cannot dream. Lusting after that cold, open air, travelling lonely on a road to nowhere. And here we lie, together yet still so alone; that heart you carry, I feel it breaking in my bones, and if this glass flower, decides to shatter, while saving every shard I'll bleed, to show you it still matters. Or do we wade endlessly, inside a sea that's never parting? Like helpless children, amongst the blue, they're going under, but it's not the tide that takes you. It's the regret. It's the regret. It's the regret. It's the regret that there may have been, something left. Alas, I digress, so I'll tell that old familiar tale, of that wooden ship, smashed on the rocks, that never had set sail. I am the captain. You were the lighthouse. I was the captain. You are the lighthouse. Bright light, blinding white, leading me to another sleepless night. And with no sleep, comes no release, another night, following your light. Our dreams tell us the secrets we keep, even from ourselves. They're keys we can't escape, like your old familiar smell. And if seeing is believing, then we, must be blind. Putting that flower back together is what's truly worth your time. But I never sleep, because it's the regret. And I never did, but I should've said... "Let me tell you all the things that I need to. I want to sail away on the waves with you. Would that be something that you might want to do? We could live as one, instead of as two."
