| Pitch black, pale blue,
|
| It was a stained glass
|
| Variation of the truth
|
| And I felt empty handed.
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| You let me set sail
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| With cheap wood.
|
| So I patched up
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| Every leak that I could,
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| 'Til the blame grew too heavy.
|
| Stitch by stitch I tear apart.
|
| If brokenness is a form of art,
|
| I must be a poster child prodigy.
|
| Thread by thread I come apart.
|
| If brokenness is a work of art,
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| Surely this must be my masterpiece.
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| I’m only honest when it rains.
|
| If I time it right, the thunder breaks
|
| When I open my mouth.
|
| I want to tell you but I don’t know how.
|
| I’m only honest when it rains,
|
| An open book with a torn out page,
|
| And my ink’s run out.
|
| I want to love you but I don’t know how.
|
| I don’t know how,
|
| No I don’t know how.
|
| I don’t know how.
|
| I want to love you but I don’t know how.
|
| I want to love you…
|
| Pitch black, pale blue,
|
| These wild oceans
|
| Shake what’s left of me loose
|
| Just to hear me cry mercy.
|
| A strong wind at my back,
|
| So I lift up the only sail that I have,
|
| This tired white flag.
|
| I’m only honest when it rains.
|
| If I time it right, the thunder breaks
|
| When I open my mouth.
|
| I want to tell you but I don’t know how.
|
| I’m only honest when it rains,
|
| An open book with a torn out page,
|
| And my ink’s run out.
|
| I want to love you but I don’t know how.
|
| I don’t know how, know how, know how,
|
| I want to love you but I don’t know how.
|
| I want to love you… |