there was madness in my method
a tiny thorn in the chink of my armour
where you left it
knowing full well it would begin,
a postal chain of thought
that would lead me back to you
now the songs sing more clearly
all that time dusted off the notes
you were one of the black keys
there to divide the life i lead
sharp or flat it
it all depends from which side
its looked at
you told me
the other side never made much sense
that it was the means that justifies everything in between
but I've seen the white walled daylight
and the sun would fall easy for me
if I could believe an ending still exists
you should use this moment
to realise now is not all we have
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