You always hurt the one you love,
The one you shouldn’t hurt at all.
You always take the sweetest rose,
And crush it till the petals fall.
You always break the kindest heart,
With a hasty word you can’t recall.
So, if I broke your heart last night,
It’s because I love you most of all
And no one was like this
‘Til you came along & reset our dials wrong
here comes that feeling you thought you’d forgotten…
(or at least hoped you’d had)
The reasons all have run away but the feeling never did
To die will be an awfully big adventure
To the moon and back…
We are unusual and tragic and alive. We walk into the throng of parents and children. We are disadvantaged but young and virile. We walk into the halls and the playground, and we are taller, we radiate. We are orphans. As orphans, we are celebrities. We are foreign exchange people, from a place where there are still orphans. Russia? Romania? Somewhere raw and exotic. We are the bright new stars born of a screaming black hole, the nascent sun burst from the darkness, from the grasping void of space that folds and swallows—a darkness that would devour anyone not as strong as we. We are oddities, sideshows, talk show subjects. We capture everyone’s imagination.
I’m perfection’s countervail torn in pieces, I am made contrite
We hid the truth beneath our skin but our shadows never looked the same
