Electric Lies & James Dean Eyes
I wish we could stay this way, beautiful and numb.
Where time would never catch up to us.
We'd be forever young.
We could really see the world.
We could do it all.
Maybe even take a chance and not be afraid to fall.
She holds my world in those tarnished eyes. She is my missing piece.
It's inevitable, we all must die.
But she's my sweetest release.
Shining like a light under the electrical moon, my James Dean eyes can't leave her since she entered the room.
There's a rare beauty inside of her.
She hides her pain well.
She smiles. She laughs at all my jokes but I can sense her hell.
She folds it neatly and tucks it away. She can never let it be seen.
But I'm an empath. I can look inside.
The lines, I've read in between.
She's not advertising in a down town parade.
And It's not the fourth of July.
She lies in the bed that she long ago made.
I see red, white, and blue in her eyes.
Someone used to hurt her and he loved to knock her down.
He couldn't appreciate her smile, so he only made her frown.
What a beautiful face with such aching in her tainted soul.
She hides behind her plastic mask secretly yearning to be made whole.
We pretend that everything is great.
I act like I don't notice her lies.
I listen to all of her theories.
But if she knew that I knew, she would die.