Donít like what youíve become,
Werenít you my life, my sun,
Why do your eyes look sad, tears
Roll down to a heart of fear.
Spring is meaningless now,
Love is not borne anew so
I close my door, a heart half full
Is a heart half empty.
I mull the mesmerising tones and lightness of dreams
The lingering light through the gap when the moon beams
And youíre only half in life, half in sub-consciousness,
No need to hold it together; no need to be cautious,
Till the sun breaks the haze, and I gaze into my reflection
And I donít like what Iíve become.