I have a confession to make.
Yes, I’m afraid there is just the one;
You see, I’ve run out of time,
I’m afraid of the morning, afraid of the sun.
You must understand the urgency,
it keeps me from rhyming;
but, as you would know, best of all,
It really is all in the timing.
I think I have a penchant for being distressed;
It seems as if I thrive in chaos, relish in the pain;
On good days, it seems like a clever battle plan,
Oh, Hide in the sunlight, only to fight in the rain?
After all, I am no girl; only a storm wearing skin,
and you were just the only place that i had left to go;
but you are always found out by your sins,
and, on your door, i shall cast a shadow nevermore.
But as i leave, i would just say one thing?
and i hope that you will understand my turning,
Is it such a crime to welcome the rain
when you find your world just won’t stop burning?