Sweet elation, return to illuminate,
defying lack of expectation.
Manifest, snuff out this pessimistic fire.
Stop the countdown.
My cycle spins out into the unknown,
brings me to strange, potentially dangerous dabbling
and I fear where I may be going,
anxious over what I may become,
so here I cast a final plea for the impossible.
Revitalize me, take me away again,
don't let it be over.
Resuscitate me, my sacred-yet-earthly.
Just fall back to me
from the land of sand and sun not far from celebrity
to remind me why I remain enduring
in this season of dual cold
for I'm about to say, "just fuck it all,"
break free and go sustained supernova.
To think once I was so certain you were the pay-off,
the star I'd always been reaching for
which I was so sure would burn me
if my naive dreaming hands had ever managed
to so much as brush,
yet without worry, for a mere finger
could never hope to grace,
or so life entrained me to maintain
until you fell to me in wondrous surreality,
awakening parts of me I thought were dust
a lifetime behind.
And then, following your lead like a lemming,
those aspects just fell away,
evaporated, so lemonade to lemons again,
left juggling here in a void,
burned, as I should have known.
Holding breath in silence within my own bubble,
I've since fought away the constant attacks
of the hungry mouth of nihilo.
Well, I need something,
but not necessarily a star.
Its you or a feeding frenzy.
And now as the darkness once again closes in on me
I cannot help but reach out with hollow hope.
My throat-rupturing pleas echo in the void.
Its but a hole of many I stick my head down nowadays,
and I'm about to pull my head out once and for all.
Can't be a compulsive ostrich here forever.
I'm about a breath from wishing away the memory.
I know its been so long now since
you failed to swing back,
since you turned away,
since you left me here, by necessity,
nonetheless alone, writhing in agony.
My dear, despite all that I'd cave to forgiveness,
I'd stop it all and welcome you with open arms
if with but a wisp of smoke
you'd simply reappear,
but I'm at my wit's end.
Solace and reason and unbridled passion
divorced from romance is closing in,
and once I've escaped this cell of hollow hope
I think perhaps no one could ever
lour me in again.
defying lack of expectation.
Manifest, snuff out this pessimistic fire.
Stop the countdown.
My cycle spins out into the unknown,
brings me to strange, potentially dangerous dabbling
and I fear where I may be going,
anxious over what I may become,
so here I cast a final plea for the impossible.
Revitalize me, take me away again,
don't let it be over.
Resuscitate me, my sacred-yet-earthly.
Just fall back to me
from the land of sand and sun not far from celebrity
to remind me why I remain enduring
in this season of dual cold
for I'm about to say, "just fuck it all,"
break free and go sustained supernova.
To think once I was so certain you were the pay-off,
the star I'd always been reaching for
which I was so sure would burn me
if my naive dreaming hands had ever managed
to so much as brush,
yet without worry, for a mere finger
could never hope to grace,
or so life entrained me to maintain
until you fell to me in wondrous surreality,
awakening parts of me I thought were dust
a lifetime behind.
And then, following your lead like a lemming,
those aspects just fell away,
evaporated, so lemonade to lemons again,
left juggling here in a void,
burned, as I should have known.
Holding breath in silence within my own bubble,
I've since fought away the constant attacks
of the hungry mouth of nihilo.
Well, I need something,
but not necessarily a star.
Its you or a feeding frenzy.
And now as the darkness once again closes in on me
I cannot help but reach out with hollow hope.
My throat-rupturing pleas echo in the void.
Its but a hole of many I stick my head down nowadays,
and I'm about to pull my head out once and for all.
Can't be a compulsive ostrich here forever.
I'm about a breath from wishing away the memory.
I know its been so long now since
you failed to swing back,
since you turned away,
since you left me here, by necessity,
nonetheless alone, writhing in agony.
My dear, despite all that I'd cave to forgiveness,
I'd stop it all and welcome you with open arms
if with but a wisp of smoke
you'd simply reappear,
but I'm at my wit's end.
Solace and reason and unbridled passion
divorced from romance is closing in,
and once I've escaped this cell of hollow hope
I think perhaps no one could ever
lour me in again.
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