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Description
Ah, if it weren't for the ability of change,
you'd still be heartbroken.
Unless change serves as a good mask
to hide behind while you sort your feelings.

But you don't think I've been there.
Oh dear, my heart stands still,
just like time once did.

Listen to these words and give them your thoughts.
While they might sound infantile, stupid, and absurd,
you placed them there as someone you once were.

And as I resort to these types of feelings,
I claim to also only carry love inside.
So what if I am a dreamer, idealistic, and daft.
I was never good at much anything else.

These words, they are my own.
They are painted by my thoughts and carried on through my lips.
So who cares if whispers are only tiny marks,
lining the path once taken.
Those roads were always there.

What have I done to save you?
What could I do?
I am no martyr, no saint, nor angel.
One such as yourself does not seem to be in need of rescue.

I ask you to forgive me,
for I know nothing but what fools feel.
Perhaps I will always play this part,
as we take to dancing like children do.

As I end, I carry with me a plea.
A thought to round the seasons,
and settle right next to your head.
For while you are sleeping,
dreams do you no harm.

Description
Ah, if it weren't for the ability of change,
you'd still be heartbroken.
Unless change serves as a good mask
to hide behind while you sort your feelings.

But you don't think I've been there.
Oh dear, my heart stands still,
just like time once did.

Listen to these words and give them your thoughts.
While they might sound infantile, stupid, and absurd,
you placed them there as someone you once were.

And as I resort to these types of feelings,
I claim to also only carry love inside.
So what if I am a dreamer, idealistic, and daft.
I was never good at much anything else.

These words, they are my own.
They are painted by my thoughts and carried on through my lips.
So who cares if whispers are only tiny marks,
lining the path once taken.
Those roads were always there.

What have I done to save you?
What could I do?
I am no martyr, no saint, nor angel.
One such as yourself does not seem to be in need of rescue.

I ask you to forgive me,
for I know nothing but what fools feel.
Perhaps I will always play this part,
as we take to dancing like children do.

As I end, I carry with me a plea.
A thought to round the seasons,
and settle right next to your head.
For while you are sleeping,
dreams do you no harm.