He's looking, from outside.
And it's raining
on the inside.
He's barely there, barely alive.
His eyes have been taken away
in that cruel cold cold night.
He had the beautiful dream of seeing things colorful,
just the way he is.
He had this wonderful maze
to be amazed by
He had the truest friends
The truest ones passing by
He reigned over with grace, style and peace making hands.
He had the gift
we all hoped to find in a good man.
His eyes were puffy still from that cold night's sobbing.
His eyes were still flaming red
His heart was dying.
He had no intention of knowing about things,
he'd let that to somebody else that wouldn't care
to go out and speak,
about these heart that bleeds,
everytime it sees
more and more pain coming from the inside.
It's been raining for so long inside of him...
how long does it take to break?
For how long can this heart still make it...
can it go through one more night?
Or will it fail him?
