1,2. 1,2,3. 1,2,3,4. And counting and the years passing and the feelings too.
Sometimes I get lucky and get a glimpse of the man I love even through those eyes that I hate.
You can’t survive love
And the reflection is gone and the doors open. You get out and walk away and you finally get it, you can’t.
…And getting lost in someone’s eyes that happen to be yours.
Our bed so infinite, it feels like we are lying on our own love.