Life seems like a clear glass bottle
then it shatters against reality.
You awake from youe dream, your reverie.
You don't see the broken shards
that lie underneath your feet.
That's why I can always seek you out.
The bloody trails you leave behind;
only it isn't just yours that's been shed.
Everyone's waiting for you to
(stumble, stumble) fall,
but I'll be the one
to pick you up.
The ghost of a Christian
steps out of the elevator
with all the things I cannot see:
Should I believe?
Because I loved you
(even worse, I still do)
and I supposed that was enough.
So now we only wave,
and more often not even that,
simply because I could not be
anyone but myself.
We just exist,
wondering what is
and what should never be.

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