The longer I draw The madder I get-
The sadder I get-
For the beauty in this world can never be
Accurately portrayed by such an
Unskilled hand.
This pen fills me with regret
And all that I have loved is gone.
Take this quill
And write me a song.
Proclaim our love and make it so
Let not my distaste for your beauty
Hinder our fa├žade.
Let's scare them away with the glory in our
Smiles.
Oh, how late it is!
For love songs and poetry can no longer
Fight the darkness
All that I have loved is lost
And all that was good is dead
The longer I draw
The madder I get-
The sadder I get-
For the pen that once was its duty
To portray all the beauty
No longer scribbles the notes
In our s o n g.