Lilac paints the view
beyond this shielded glass.
I'd take a trip with you
but I know better than to ask;
you just draw the curtains.
Listen up,
don't speculate my pain.
My words are sound enough,
but no one hears a thing
over the static of uncertainness.
Oh we ponder the days
when the laughter was real;
a playful sunday chase
through our sacred field of lilac.
How I long to hear
the songs we used to sing.
But when the daylight disappears
and I slip off to dream;
the only sound is thunder.
We both realize
it's best you travel on now.
These heavy laden skies
will soon come pouring down, down, down..
and slowly pull you under.
Just hold onto the days
when the laughter was real;
a playful sunday chase
through our sacred field of lilac
