woozles - old calendars كلمات أغنية

old calendars from years past
still hang in my room
telling me of the past times
the good, the bad, and the true

when i look at you i wistfully hope
that i see my own future; our future
and see the pain in your history
written in the lines of your face

but the roaring cacophony inside my mind
dies down to a murmur of clarity
when i look in your eyes
even though i know it’s all wrong

are we both so lonely, so distant
that if i were to brush the back of my hand
gently against your face
neither of us would feel it?

i put on a charade of energy each day
like a clown puts on his makeup:
with a deep sigh and a master hand
which grows shakier each coming night

i am a hollow boy
like a tree rotting from the inside out
but still clinging tenaciously to life
stretching ever upward towards the sun

you are my sun

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