A hopeless romantic, a hopeless dream
That’s what is real, and it’s all it will be.
To crush false hope at the source of its seam.
Picture it, sitting on top of a tree.
Picture the tree and a noose hanging high.
Picture the night with no star in one’s sight.
The wind howls loud, an encouraging lie,
Paint the false hope as a pitiful might.
It’s clear that it seems to work itself out,
No, it is not wrong, and time comes up near
Hopelessness lingers around your self-doubt
It’s rambunctious, surplus: please disappear.
Once at a time, the tree did not exist
Oh, pain built it up in the form of roots,
It grew, groped, pursued, no none can resist
Branches, reminders of once his pursuit.
The false faith fates fear; haunts a sore mind
Creating two pictures, one white, one rough
The rough richness lingers, holds in a bind
The binds don’t let go ‘til you’ve had enough.
The faith of a love drives the soul, it’s bound
To the false idol, true love, heart to heart
The hopeless dream lingers, the noose it’s found
It escapes the tree, to find its restart.