Jigsaw
Location
On and on and on
I find me
being distracted
by your beauty, words and charm.
You got me
reenacting
a love that's long gone
- just remnants in your songs.
This can't go on
this way.
It's a prevaricator's perfect display.
I pick up the pieces and it's not the same as the first time. These two are jagged, weathered by being broken up and put back together again so they fit imperfectly...spaces seperating them indefinitely where their lines and curves once merged into unity... Not complete, just complete in eachother; content with being side by side. I was content with being by your side until I realized there was more than one...
On and on and on
I find me
being distracted
by your beauty, words and charm.
You got me
reenacting
a love that's long gone
- just remnants in your songs.
This can't go on
this way.
It's a prevaricator's perfect display.
Baby,
you got me going back and forth,
back and forth with myself
myself.
Maybe
you got me more than I wanted you to,
a bigger slice than I cut for you.
I cut for you to bleed out this love.
My love for you bleeds out like a blue Crayola marker on thin pages of highschool homework. It bleeds across cerulean oceans encroaching on land, in some weird way helping me understand that love can reach even hard to reach places...like the other side of a jigsaw piece. It can reach to meet a space occupied by memories of her; painful memories you can't let go of because they make you who you are or who you percieve or decieve yourself to be in life's jigsaw.
On and on and on
I find me
being distracted
by your beauty, words and charm.
You got me
reenacting
a love that's long gone
- just remnants in your songs.
This can't go on
this way.
It's a prevaricator's perfect display.
On and on and on
I find me
being distracted
by your beauty, words and charm.
You got me
reenacting
a love that's long gone
- just remnants in your songs.
This can't go on
this way.
It's a prevaricator's perfect display.