My heart is an open wound and a book.
Writing pages of banter
To pull the sheets from the bed of our lovers.
No one will sleep here tonight because my song hasn't yet been sung.
And by the time you realize,
Just what the ghost that haunts you wants.
It may already be to late to save your soul.
And by the day you take your last breath
I may have already moved onto my next victim
No one will sleep
No one will hear
I will defy the earth and cleanse the air
Make a mockery, of what your eyes have seen.
And you will all crumble before the ghost of me.
How beautifully leaves grow old.
How full of light and color are their last days.
They'll fall to mother earth just like a child
Begging to be held
And no one will sleep here because I will pierce your ears with the sound of my exaggerations.
Once I am buried in the sky you really know just what I meant when I said "fly".