i found a recording
a token, a cry in the night,a plea for me to stay
I was leaving,you were begging me to hold on to something
that I couldn't see,that you could feel
a hand, a whisper, a reach in the night
A thousand broken hearts later
and your love was the one that
the one that came and left
a silver ring
and a memory with unopened wings
the empty womb of an
the stale memory
is the coldest cavern of all.
I should of seen this
I should of been at that front door
not across the ocean wanting you more.
Is it ever wrong to mourn the loss?
Of som e thing--
that was never even there!
it was simply lost
a piece of the puzzle floating,
wave by wave
it is tossed along the shores of