Moving On

I stood in a pool of my own blood.
I watched as the prophecies unwinded.
She took my bleeding heart for sport.
She threw it away as my love was endited.

Written on a piece of paper, she put it in a bottle.
Written in the sand was my eternal testimony.
Every day, drifting off to new shore; my love in a bottle.
Every day, looking through eyes that shone, her alimony.

Hours fell on black days, and turned my head around.
Hours of such pain, with such wonder, my head it spun.
Now she wants me to go back, but it's too late to turn around.
Now she thinks I need something else, her head it spins.

Little Mrs. says hello.
Little Mrs. She's alone.
Little Mrs. needs me now.
Little Mrs. I need you now.

Morrow wants sorrow.
Today wants to go away.
Yesterday wants to play.
Such sorrow, I might wallow.

So the sphere burns, and I swim.
So the salt swallows my angel sins.
Just as I fell, I fell hard.
Just as I saw, I saw my heart.

Inside out.
Upside down.