The words are cheap
Looks are taxing...

Empty leaves
Awaiting closure...

The boy at the sea
He always makes me ponder...

When the words of our song
Were sold to her...

The tear breached stances
amble in self-belief...

Just short of love
Is what happens when you speak...

Standing in the rain
Waiting for the future...

When they thought we had just "begun"
We found that gun...

I know what you've done
It's like the sound of my gun...

Her silence sang above her father's grave
As she swallowed her sorrow...

There were scratch marks on her door
As she lay upon on the suffocating floor...

I wanted to help her
See her take flight...