For the darkest dance, for the whitest rain, and for the shimmering bleak of refrain.
Repeating nuances of endless being, my crazy mary.
When everything begins with a story, some ended with simple melody. Not this time, not ever.
We may forget about ending, we may forget about dreams, all we remember is now, all we know its happening.
Words left behind, worlds shall perish, paralyzing the parallel reality. Yet the show you somehow steal, my crazy mary.
Lights that somehow still remain, kissed by the desolated warmth, coming out of nowhere yet I feel calm. Loneliness is just another side of solemn smile, we then abide, paraphrasing the smothering sickness of mirthless expression.
I can still see what’s inside.
Of not knowing where to go. To be lost and to enjoy. To fly away and never come home. Crazy mary, be there on my last sacrificial crow.