I felt your tears slip through my hands
and your heart through my fingers.
when did we all lament
and cherish the forgotten singers?

the singers of old,
who sung of love.
of stories never written, only told
of the wings on a dove.

I would curse the sky
like a mourning dove
to forget the night you died
and the day i gave up

I loved you so much
my dear Suicide pill,
why did you forget my love?
why did you let me kill?

i've killed you, and myself in the process
this love we had, perished
your heart on the floor in pieces.
and i believe that's where it's cherished.