Out of balance and out of time
lingering on the edge is the best way to lose your chime,
so panic now, for why the f***s it inside my head and not inside my ears?
And how on f*****g earth can we face these long and lonely years?
But I’ll leave it lie for the sake of brevity
the tale of her porcelain skin marred by our depravity.
So now we’re all alone and there’s no one else to sin
we can stage a coup inside and the strongest man can win.
But I’m left to wonder now that I’m the one to win
am I the one left inside this rotten fleshy tin?
I guess since my head still screams me is we and we is me so me is in fact just
I
or maybe this last man left inside is just another man who has to die.
What makes a changing fractured man unchanged? It must be
something from the start.
Well I guess then it’s that none of us inside own my beating heart.
And that much I can say for sure, that much I know for certain,
she’ll have it forever, or at least until death draws shut my curtain.
But if I’m to live forever deep down in this hole,
hell if I’m to live at all first I need to mend her soul.
Scars can never heal but open wounds may be closed
and I can try to stop the bleeding until I am disposed.
I know that she’ll be happy with others, even if I hate that mental picture,
but no matter how she finds happiness it will make my beggar’s life all the
richer.
Because for you to be in love is to be selfish and care only for you,
but to truly love her means that’s the last thing I can do.
So when one day she’s taught to see herself the way I always
did,
and I know I’ve been outbid,
with salt on the air I’ll watch two perfect loves
sweep each other up in a wedding framed by doves.
And as he carries her across the threshold in her wedding dress…
I’ll be filled with the sweetest wrath a man in love may ever possess.