Siren Song
Siren Song
There is a song that was written once,
It’s stitched right here, right on my heart.
Oh, and it used to be a pretty melody,
One that I could belt out like a little lark in
The early morning light.
But now it's like a string of violins,
Weeping uncontrollably, sewn so tightly within my heart
In that, it can scarcely be heard with the human ear,
Instead, it twitters on
In hushed lullaby tones,
And though I try to shut it up,
And cover it,
And remove its strings,
Still, it plays, weeping with every beat of my heart,
No longer the pretty tune it once was,
But an endless dirge of quickened heartbeats and watering eyes.
There was a time when I compared
That voice to a symphony,
There is a song that was written once,
It’s stitched right here, right on my heart.
Oh, and it used to be a pretty melody,
One that I could belt out like a little lark in
The early morning light.
But now it's like a string of violins,
Weeping uncontrollably, sewn so tightly within my heart
In that, it can scarcely be heard with the human ear,
Instead, it twitters on
In hushed lullaby tones,
And though I try to shut it up,
And cover it,
And remove its strings,
Still, it plays, weeping with every beat of my heart,
No longer the pretty tune it once was,
But an endless dirge of quickened heartbeats and watering eyes.
There was a time when I compared
That voice to a symphony,
A time before I knew
That it was never a song,
But a lure,
One that I clung to without question.