Here is a scale. Weigh it out and you'll find, easily,
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More than sufficient doubt that these colors, you see
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Were picked in advance by some careful hand
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With an absolute concept of beauty.
|
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They are smeared and these blurs come in random order
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And they color the eyes of your former lovers.
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Hers were green like July,
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Except when she cried they were red.
|
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Now I know a disease that these doctors can't treat.
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You contract on the day you accept all you see
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Is a mirror and a mirror is all it can be.
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A reflection of something we're missing.
|
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And language just happened. It was never planned.
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And it's inadequate to describe where I am
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In the room of my house where the light's never been
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Waiting for this day to end.
|
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And these clocks keep unwinding and completely ignore
|
Everything that we hate or adore.
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Once the page of a calendar is turned it's no more.
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So tell me then, what was it for?
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Oh tell me, what was it for?
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-----------------
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A Scale, A Mirror And Those Indifferent Clocks
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| Bright Eyes |
