|i'll try to describe the way that it felt to
|tell my own mother her son is a failure.
|his heart is too cold to love anyone but himself.
|it's like stabbing an icicle straight through your chest.
|your whole body shivers as it coarses your blood.
|and your quivering throat keeps
|choking on those words,
|mama i tried a thousand times
|i'm frozen to the core.
|your son is a glorious mess,
|who wrecks anything he adores.
|but deep in his center he swears
|there’s a candle just waiting to burn. and melt.
|so who's gonna burn him
|yeah who's gonna break him
|into a thousand pieces
|melting over flames of perfection.
|i once felt its warmth,
|but it left me shivering in the dark.
|mama i tired a thousand times
|the pieces wouldn't fit.
|son, love is a punch in the eye.
|it’s a sudden and swift surprise. i
|t's not a candle, its not waiting to burn.
|so baby, just wait your turn.
|and when it hits you,
|you'll see through rose colored apathy;
|through the blues that bruise can leave.
|was it really worth the wait?
|What We Fall for When We're Already Down
|The Good Life