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Mad Child’s Lament

Charcoal lines tracing time.

Background of a sketchbook life

Hides inside the prison of her mind

Rainbow hair and viper lips,

The devil twists her fingertips.

Scorns the angel kiss she left behind.

She catches all the swirling colors from the afterglow

And paints herself into a corner then she calls it home.

She says when we’re together that we’re better off alone

But then she draws the blinds and calls me to her bed.

In a sea of satin thread where the truth is left unsaid

Yes, I think I made you up inside my head.

Razor tongue, a warm embrace shades of guilt across her face

Vanishes without a trace again

She lies awake and talks to ghosts who whisper secrets through the smoke

‘Cause all she ever wanted was a friend.

She dances with the shadows of the lovers from her past.

She drags her pawns along the lonely chessboard made of glass.

She runs away from everything ‘cause nothing good can last

and then she shuts her eyes, and all the world drops dead.

And the tears were finally shed on a canvas washed in red.

Yes, I think I made you up inside my head.

Winter weaves its cloak of frozen grey.

Spring has never seemed so far away.

You know how to hurt me so, more than anyone I know.

Bruised and broken hoping’ you will stay

You opened up a window when you blindly closed the door.

Now everything is hollow where the silent lions roar.

There’s nothing in here moving I can’t feel you anymore

I should have tried to catch a comet’s tail instead.

‘Cause I may have been misled by the image I was fed.

Yes, I think I made you up inside my head

Should have tried to catch a comet’s tail instead.