by amica paige
Words and art have a habit of dying in silence. They must be seen and heard.
They must be freed and shared.
I wrote these lyrics a few years ago and have tinkered with basic chords for it, as I love music.
But I'm still not a musician. Hopefully someday, I'd encounter a great musician who'd turn this into a song.
You've been stuck in your cocoon
Only stepping out in the moon
Watching and seeing you slide
But I'm still alive
Voices calling out in your head
Sanity's gone early to bed
Watching and waiting to fly
But you're still alive
Nothing to hide from
I'm out the door
while you slip...away
Nothing to live for
You're stuck to the floor
as i ride...away
When all's been said
and everything's been done
what else is left?
When all's been seen
taken with a grin
what is left behind?
To death, in red
A heart is bled, unsaid.
To dive, to thrive
A choice is made, unheard.
We are what's left behind - 2x
unread.
We are stories,
forever we're stories,
untold.
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