She’s all over you,
while she’s confessing her blues,
Show the facts, hide the cracks
from the books in the stacks.
Red sky as your canvas:
Use shades from your black protocol
to colour your green streets
with some fake yellow silence.
Your memory’s clouded
Like the grey water from your source,
You should drain your doubts
Because white lies overshadow the real
we don’t have to sing sad songs.
In the morning true colours reflect
the beggining of a daylight saga
that leads you to the night dew.
She’s all over me,
While I’m trying to see
Through the curtain of our shame,
Is this love or is it lust?
But sky is your canvas
Use shades from your black protocol.
Your memory is clouded
like the grey water from your source.
We should write this down
Because our lies overshadow the real me,
Now I hate to sing this song.
Time slips away between our fingers.