This fragile branch is weeping down and it's slowly progressing towards the ground.
And it's hanging on by a thread like I'm hanging on to every word that you've said.
Have I heard you right or am I wrong to consider this a possibility?
The chance of all chances to call you my own.
And this is why I'm standing here with my heart on my sleeve,
To tell you that my life's been hard when I don't have you here with me.
Because I am so predictably afraid to tell you how I feel.
Because I need you like the air I breathe won't you suffocate me.
And tonight I see you looking at me, but I cannot read that look in your eyes.
So tell me what you mean, tell me what's on your mind. And I will not speak, I will not speak a word.
And this is why I'm standing here with my heart on my sleeve,
To tell you that my life's been hard when I don't have you here with me.
Because I am so predictably afraid to tell you how I feel.
Because I need you like the air I breathe won't you suffocate me.
Monday, August 10, 2009
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