She stood so carefully there, in shadows and mystery
Her colors full of bloom, even beneath his loom
The book of rules he wrote, were tossed out by his own hand
And so she clutched the photograph...
    Dingy bar, smiling faces, new years eve
Drunk on lust and love and cheap well drinks
Hell in foreshadow

    Now she cries alone
Having her roses faded to grey
The shadows he cast, and the mystery, her mystery he stole

And along they went
Years pass and memories lapse and old embers burn still there
In her proud chest
The arch of her spine still holds true, and she still walks
    With her head up high
Even with the black eye
And split lip, even if just in memory
The scorn has slipped from her voice
And she holds a single rose


He sits and drinks alone now
No more friends and lovers and the body of her warmth
To keep him from the chill in his bones
Now he speaks in hollow voices
Echoing off his own four walls
She still feels, still heals his wounds, even if going ignored
From distance and lapse in good judgment
She twirls around his bloodshot moon
And he curses her sunshine for it


The stars seem to have forgotten
What he'd do, her glistening orbs
Always looking for that last piece in him
That she can cling to, taste of it
And the fragments of her life he shattered
Don't seem to look so gray
No matter what he might say
She bites her tongue, and uses her lips
To kiss his pain away


And he drinks alone, despite all this