The Breakdown

She is only peaceful when she sleeps--
finally at peace, she breathes in deep;
finally at peace, let her sleep, let her sleep.
At other times, she's a ticking clock, attatched to a bomb.
Tick-Tock, any minute now, any second...
You walk on egg shells, she walks on fire.
Care for your scratches on your own, she needs something stronger.
Care for your scratches on your own, she needs someone stronger.
Wipe your trickling tears, her eyes have run dry--
Two ancient wells with tunnels to the depths of hell.
She can no longer see the light;
I cannot see the happiness in her eyes anymore,
just sadness.
She cannot see the happiness in her eyes anymore,
just madness.
Tick-Tock, any minute now, any second...
That which is most beautiful is also most fragile,
She is the ice sculptre for your display--
only smiles, only praise,
people whisper words of greatest appreciation...
But what about when the ice begins to crack, begins to melt?
Tick-Tock, any minute now, any second...
The breakdown.
She will dissolve into the air you're breathing,
but you won't notice.
Your memory bank will run dry,
and you'll find another source of light.
The ticking clock will engage a silent bomb,
but her distance is now so great,
only she will feel the effects of her great escape.
Finally at peace, let her sleep, let her sleep.