Fiddle

I tried before, to find a metaphor
to make the world understand

you're in my brain
but I can't explain
what makes you make me
the way I am.

Won't call you a sweater
sure you're warm
but you fit me in any weather

Won't call you a bird
even if though you're sweet
because you only chirp for me

Won't call you a promise
because there is no obligation
you just like being here

Some before, played me like
a fiddle

But you hold me, deliberate
soft when the song needs it
like your favorite guitar.

I guess I don't know what to call you
because it's never been this way before

I guess I don't know what to call you
because it's never been this way before.

Limbo

Won't let myself be happy
just because you're not around

this isn't good
you say --
you'd say

Feeling guilty just for living
even if there was no antidote

Feeling guilt just for breathing
because someone else's face went blue

At night I hold my breathe
trying my best not to make a sound

If I'm going to sweat and shake,
let the memories jar me
till I jerk myself awake
what's the point anyhow?

I tried to give my spine to you
flow my fluid through your cord

Like the blood and body you gave me
like the cord that connected you to me

but there's no use
in trying to reanimate a corpse

there's no magic
that will bring the blood back

I could stand here in limbo forever
wishing were both on other sides

It won't do me any good.
It won't do you any good.