I'm done with lyrics, with cryptic.
All I want is the beauty that things can really be.
It seems that I've been too busy covering my eyes, my mind, and my imagintation.
Now, nothing is the way I wanted it to have been.
The violin has been playing,
You and I both know, it's never been something you've enjoyed.
Frankly, there's something else we both know.
You're just unwilling to admit to it, And hold on to a future unseen.
I've been where you haven't, you're going where I'm not.
The new land is calling,
and the reply has been sent.
♥ b.
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