Saturday, November 04, 2006
He laid emeralds in her eyes,
Oh, but i already tried,
A bracelet made of gold,
And scarlet thread around her wrists.

And everything was wrong,
So we sang sentimental songs,
Of how seldom we belong,
But how elegant our kiss,

And we painted crooked lines,
But we danced in perfect time,
To a love so much refined,
We know not what it is,

So like the dullen wine,
We pour into a grief we'd known before,
But never quite like this,
Never quite like this,

All I know now is regret,
She follows like a sillhouette,
Of a cobblestone behind me,
She has nothing left to say,

But to innocently ask,
Her voice as delicate as glass,
Do you see me when we pass?
But I, I'll continue on my way.

Why can't I remember this?