M*51: Song Collection: The Painted Urn

The Painted Urn

So much time negotiating old bonds from newborn lies,
You took the time to smear the dark grays into my deep blue skies.
We stood so strong, each one of us with lives and wants and needs,
But then the wind whisked you all from my reach like dandelion seeds.
I kept my words down in my throat...
But now I feel that it's all choking out,
I one time wondered if dreams could float,
And that may be why I drowned.

And six feet under isn't all so bad
When it's your heart's twelfth time down.
The coffin walls may drive you mad,
When your screaming's the only sound,
But at least you know it's too late now
When you were inches from the key.
I'll keep your ashes in the painted urn,
And you'll keep what's left of me.

I'm so scared, that these feelings I feel just might be understood.
I took the time to blow these clouds through the air, in hope it would do some good.
Like cigarettes, with twelve long drags you ate me dark inside,
You drew me in and I followed close up on your heels until the day I died.
I kept my feet on the hard sod...
The illusion was performed so well,
I one time thought I could catch God,
And that may be why I'm in Hell.

And six feet under isn't all so bad
When it's your heart's twelfth time down.
The coffin walls may drive you mad,
When your screaming's the only sound,
But at least you know it's too late now
When you were inches from the key.
I'll keep your ashes in the painted urn,
You'll keep what's left of me.

What if we soared through the sky together and talked about our dreams?
If we all flew together too close to the sun, would the warmth burn down my wings?
What if we saw the ocean together and overcame our pride?
Would you reach for my hand or would you turn away when my heart sank in the tide?

You know six feet under isn't all so bad
When it's your heart's twelfth time down.
The coffin walls may drive you mad,
When your screaming's the only sound,
But at least you know it's too late now
When you were inches from the key.
I'll keep your ashes in the painted urn,
You'll keep what's left of me.

And six feet under isn't all so bad
When it's your heart's twelfth time down.
The coffin walls may drive you mad,
When your screaming's the only sound,
But at least you know it's too late now
When you were inches from the key.
I'll keep your ashes in the painted urn...

You'll keep what's left of me.