What is it to you?
That I cut...

You're gone now, but I still
think...

The colors play across
the sheets...

One two three four
you counted me into this dream...

You're trying to find a way out of your own head.
Your winding stories immortalized in your...

Can you repeat that?
I don't think I heard that last word...

Looking in the mirror,
this scene is repeating itself...

We lie beneath the stars,
your head cupped in my hands...

We're sitting beneath the red plastic slide,
watching and running from the rain that is...

She's just a pretty weed,
planted in this city of gray...

Will you venture out now?
This sugar-coated poison has lost its kick...

Invisible
I'm tired, tired of...