The Better View

I gave it all away for a moment I would have done it for a second Because the truth us held deep in the mind And so very rarely does it find its way to the tongue Or release itself from blackened lungs You must live to regret If you have done no such thing you have not lived She told me she hates my depression Asking what is my obsession And why is it something never mentioned Did I make you think Aw sweetie are my thoughts finally sinking in I’m looking down with a grin She longs to be up there with him She’s wondering was he forgiven for his sins In her mind they all added up and he dissolved them and drank them down “God has he found happiness” “I hope he still remembers the kiss of morning dew” “Will” “God damn you” “Together we were just the few” “Alone we are just me and you” She is screaming hard into the sea and praying into the sun I hate to tell her its useless to prey I’m not burning in hell I guess I played my little role pretty damn well “He had such an abstract view” “I bet in heaven there is laughter only because of you” “God does he now sing to you as if some how in cue” Sweety heaven is made of memories of us two and it holds no resemblance to perfection Because perfection is an idea and affection That I felt down there with you Can you hear me floating outside your window I’m singing softly keep time with the pitter patter of rain on your shutters I came back to tell you imperfection was my obsession In the sobering hours, I realize this is all just a reversal of roles And maybe it was what I was thinking at the time But in that peaceful serenity of screams I went blind And my tears fell like rain from the sky My voice swelled and crack in steady time In this instance I saw the light Far off in the distance at the end of the rail line I wish I could conjure up a lie Like it was dust in my eye But I’m too busy singing About an empty shore line A misplaced memory tossed into the sea And all that I’ve hoped to have forgotten Has gotten itself incapsuled in a line Of some depressing song that I’m inclined to keep singing But after the rains the black rose will emerge And purge from my heart every haunting memory Because the power of the mind is worthless If it is not producing fiction to soothe the quiet addiction of the heart I hope everyone will see that the suffering Is universal and it’s a course for all of us to bare