It's 4 in the morning
Minds turning on every light
In the hopeless romantic side
Deep in the archives
Heart searching for purpose and an excuse
To abuse ourselves for the taste of youth
I wrote her symphony's
While they played out as tragedies
Guilty conscience be damned
You blinded me and thought I didn't see
The way you carried yourself in those final hours
First time was guilt, the second was on purpose
Third just a game of fools
Stroll outside the forbidden section to recent times
Had a new path open up
But I found myself in conflict
Do I go left or right?
Chased that false flame
Nobody to blame but myself
Still see the other path through the thick brush
But I'm in no rush this time
I don't how to proceed but hopefully
I can trust this to lead me back
If someday I get the chance
Oh the beautiful pieces I'd craft just for her
An old soul with seasonings of modern flair
Witty, sassy and true
But be still my heart, just be still
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