I’m sorry there was a murder. That’s unfortunate. But… Can you tell Heaven from Hell? If you had to point it out between your lovers eyes. Use a shot gun, find it faster.
You had me at marijuana. Reefer. Weed. Pot. It hits the apathetic spot. I’m sorry I hurt you. That’s unfortunate. But… Could you tell Heaven from Hell? Could you give me direction? You’re too busy humming to yourself. You may have known it once. But you’ve forgotten.
“I love you,” you say. Soft lips. Brown eyes. Such a beautiful girl. Such a beautiful lie. I’m sorry I don’t fall over my own rejections that come from your pretty face. That’s unfortunate. But… You don’t know Heaven from Hell. You don’t even know this mind you claim to love so well.
Quiet man with a lot of pain. It’s your business, it’s your shame. But I could help you mend the broken parts, if you could do me the same. Maybe we could find Heaven in this Hell. Or maybe we’ll crash and burn. Hit the wall. Maybe it doesn’t exist at all.
Could I tell Heaven from Hell? Could I even see it with eyes full of tears? Maybe I’ll be over you in a few years. I’m sorry you’re gone. That’s unfortunate.