“Summer looks the same. But last summer she loved me.”

We search for meaning. And destroy it.

She was simple. Like a poem, and always dressed in sunshine.

She was an artist on top of me, and soaked my sheets with poetry.

A lot of ugly people hide behind beautiful eyes. A lot of things are only lies.

I never drink in the morning. Mornings are for drugs.

She could be anything. But she’s just a girl with a broken heart.

It’s funny how love fades, and they become more than a poem about yesterday.

Late nights. Poetry. Cigarettes. and a wounded heart, trying to forget you.

She’s like a jar of butterflies, waiting to be opened.

Sometimes I wonder if these rain soaked shoes will get me home.

She wanted romance. I just wanted to fuck the stars out of her eyes.

Women are beautiful. But some are made of hell.

This heart. It’s broke. I don’t want it anymore.

Romance is a dream. I can get better shit at the liquor store.

With her, the world becomes art.

I hated you. and you hated me. But we called it love.

All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are.

Each time you love, love as deeply as if it were forever.

And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us.

I want you here with me To guide me, hold me, and love me now.

So it’s not gonna be easy. It’s going to be really hard; we’re gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, everyday. You and me – everyday.

The two that are one, the one that is all!

The two that are one, the one that is all!

Everything is plainer when spoken than when unspoken.