my open door

our hands are apart.
the world gets cold outside, but it's not about that though, is it?
it's about you and me
and i will lie with you neath the beeches
all these thoughts keep spinning round my head
and i know that i can control them, but somehow i don't want to
i want to feel you and this warmth within me
that it is caused by your smile and your touch
and just the tought of you brings joy to my eyes
but i know that in my sky, you are nothing but my moon and stars
and in yours, who knows what's going on in your sky
i always return to this grey room, my grey room
hours after that warm embrace of love and happiness i now find myself with moonlight eyes and irish songs in my ears
not knowing what to do with my hands and not knowing how to face the fact that i can't smile
because i miss you
and
you
don't
miss me
and i miss you already
i miss you always
and this is how i feel
and i know that this feeling will be gone by the morning,
but along with the night, and the pale moonlight, it will come back
what am i darling? insane? afraid? mistaken? misunderstood?
cheers to you, and your lovely voice

i try to convince myself that none of these thoughts actually matter because,
i've still got me to keep YOU warm
and i've still got me to cross YOUR bridge in MY own fucking storm
and after all this, i still want to, i still can't control myself to the point of not wanting to tell you that i love you
i still do, but as i've said before, hundreds of times before, does it really matter?
pray for me child, even a smile would do for now
i thought i had something more to say, not just this wibbly wobbly crazy teenager stuff
how much difference does it make?

and here i am, fighting my way out of this grey room
fighting my way out of this madness i put myself in
and fighting my way out of here and into my dreams, or yours if possible