Your life on a sketching pad br Symbolism smudged into crooked lines br Your heart in a notebook br Words left to be defined br And in this time you send yourself br Its pages closed left to unfold br Into her hands; into her hands br You pray to god she understands br br Well I guess that it’s typical br To cling to things that are just ephemeral br And it just doesn’t seem fair br And it doesn’t matter how hard you tried br That faith you had; those wounded eyes, br That battered mind that just understood that she doesn’t care br No she doesn’t care br You fooled yourself not to be scaredbr br Audrey Stephensonbr br