Bright eyes
> cutting through the dark,
>>your bright eyes.
I called and got the machine
> just to hear your voice.
And on the darkest night,
> I can still see the path
>> I would take to your window,
Many a late night / early morning
I would crawl through the window
> and into the bed.
Next to your body I would sleep and dream
Until morning's bleak light.
And then I was gone
Before your parents noticed,
> or maybe they did
>> and thought I was good for you
Now I crawl out my window, and break my legs
> Just trying to stand (on my own), then run to the nearest bottle
My words, and lines, and heartstrings
> get all twisted.
I cry for no reason
I promise:
"There's no one after you!"
Next to your memories I sleep
> and dream
And wait for mourining's / morning's bleak light
