I bury my head in the music of others
to lift shadows off a broken dream
of a silent man pulled under, unafraid;
to take away my pain and the cold inside
as my spirit tries to carry on, surrounded
in all the light, taking the time, waiting
for the miracle and the sleeper to finish
this dance of eternity.
I fill my ears with the words of others,
of conversation pieces at the edge of thorns
as I call on the Lord to bring on the night
and soak up all that I bleed in the cold rain
coming down on a world being burned by the Sun,
where tears mean nothing because at a distance
no-one will ever see them fall again.
I will give up forever just to touch you
but somehow, I know that you do not feel.
Not after you have been love's suicide, falling
angry on tin roofs without any hope of survival.
If you want for that death to be a secret then
it will be truly yours for all your days;
because when you had me, you hated me as
you hated the darkness that isn't who I am—
but that was all that you ever saw.