past lovers and all their regrets,
everything they promised,
building you up in black and white polaroids
and breaking you down like a funeral dress.
in the end all we are is a broken wine glass
with blood red love soaking into white bones,
built up and broken down
like shooting stars and dying angels.
all we are are memories;
little smiles between you and me;
kisses under bridges and cherry trees;
hot chocolate and snow storms;
these are the things that we live for,
these are all we have to die for.
in end we're twin skeletons on a hotel bed -
broken and bent and holding on
to things that only once existed.
every smile fades even though the sun begins a new day,
but all our memories
turn skeletons into humans and headstones into silver gold.
oh honey, i promise, none of our memories will ever grow old.