I should have turned to you and said, It's alright darling... someday you'll forget me. And your eyes would have welled up with tears, Mine would have as well. So these days a wandering mind holds sway, And hope is a knife sick with need. Will you cry out for me in your sleep? Wasting what precious little time we have left, On a dead man trying to find life. Against a bright moon, dark sky, and city lights. The color of her eyes, the taste of her flesh. I've failed again. Quietly leaving, quietly leaving again.