Trace around her lips with his fingers, he tries to draw on a smile,
"Give it time These scars are the stars that will show you the light"
And now she's all he sees;
he stays awake to watch her breathe the unheard
melodies; the grace notes of her restless sleep

Hold me now, don't let it fade away from here It's so clear"¦

His tattered undershirt"?a souvenir that she likes to breathe in
She sighs"?days doing nothing unconscious of time
And now he's all she sees;
she stays awake to watch him breathe the unknown
poetry; sweet sonnets of how it should be

And everybody might just have these same ideas--
these same plans--I suppose

We've found a perfect niche:
where plastic meets perfect, kill substance for style
But inside, we get burned by the fuel that we cannot deny