Itchin' On A Photograph

I'm itchin' on a photograph.




"There's no right way to say this."

"Well then don't say it."

It's a heavy sigh, the breath such a burden on his lungs. It's a weak stare, apologetic ebony eyes not meeting the sad ones, the sick ones. It's the steady beat of the heart monitor, ensuring the security of the sick girl in bed.

"We can't be together."

"Leave it to you to wait until I'm dying."



Feel the rain come down and you know now
Put the fire out, you'll burn
Ever wonder how you can see now
At this landing ground is so...

listen, won't you?