There are words I could not find
Or have somehow lost their meaning
In the pages now left behind
senseless words keep just spinning

There is much that still could be said
There are words that still float around us
But the tears we refuse to shed
Are a curse… curse…

I am not quite sure I can open this drawer
I am not sure I can smell the dead flowers
much to recover and this might make me cower
It might make me uncover if what's mine is still ours

I am trapped by the songs of sirens
Enthralled by their silent screams
Reaction led by pure chance
That fits in unheard of schemes
Under a different disguise
Old mistakes stop to chat
Support I used to despise
Decision I now regret

Please turn off the brightest lights
After the turn of the cards
I will wait for deeper insights
At least for small thought shards

Please turn off the searing lights
After the turn of the tide
To the laws your hand writes
I'll undoubtedly abide

Greet the ghosts but do not heed the words they say
Wait for sleep and do not mind their wails or sighs
Do not trust them when they say they will not stay
When tomorrow comes you'll understand but now

I am not quite sure I can open this drawer
I am not sure I can smell the dead flowers
much to recover and this might make me cower
It might make me uncover if what's mine is still ours

There are words I could not find
Or have somehow lost their meaning
In the pages now left behind
Senseless words keep just spinning
Through the night

Greet the ghosts but do not heed the words they say
Wait for sleep and do not mind their wails or sighs
Do not trust them when they say they will not stay
When tomorrow comes you'll understand but now

I am not quite sure I can open this drawer
I am not sure I can smell the dead flowers
much to recover and this might make me cower
It might make me uncover if what's mine is still ours

This time
There were words I could not say
This time now
This time
There were prayers I could not pray
This time now

I am not quite sure I can open this drawer
I am not sure I can smell the dead flowers
much to recover and this might make me cower
It might make me uncover if what's mine is still ours