“I called to tell you I love you, and I called to tell you I’m leaving.” Oh, we were a temperamental spark and we were a quick, fleeting season, and any swift, evening wind could have blown us a kiss to keep the embers burning, but we smoldered into ashes and we stopped yearning for a flame that burned blue enough to melt our hearts together, but, “I called to tell you that I’ll never leave, and that I’ll love you forever.”
And as long as the seasons never change, I’ll keep my promise, yeah I’ll keep myself together, but once the weather shifts and challenges my promises, I’ll retrace and erase every oath that I ever spoke from my lips.
She spoke, “Speak up! Speak up!” I spoke, “All my words are but a whisper, because I can never speak them loud enough to risk an anchor in my legs. Oh they are as shaky as they’ll ever be and I will always run from the risk of solidarity, instead.
So I called to tell you that I loved you, and now that love is gone.” But I have always been a liar, and I sing all the same songs that my father sung to my mother’s womb – oh how she used to sing them with me! We were a cracking foundation, and we always kept on shifting with the arguments that threatened house and home, but no matter what the compromise, a heart of flesh cannot be knit together with a heart of stone.
Somewhere, in a thick fog, I can see me leaving, and I run the way a coward does while tears that should be streaming down your cheeks dry up in a swell of leaves, like the erasing of any memory that ever kissed your silent lips as you watched me go.
Well I got exactly what I wanted: a broken heart.