I'm writing on your front door
Where I have waited before
Your green eye is peeking
Through the keyhole striving for the right words
I am drawing a story of what,
What is right?
You're smoothing all the wrinkles we've left behind
I move to see you
Sneaking out of the light
You wonder if I know it
Turning pale and white
If I had a rope I would try it
Turning over love
But I made a pact with the walls
They whisper what I thought
I colored your front door
Within you can't see
I colored your front door
I am drawing a story of what,
What is right?
You're smoothing all the wrinkles we've left behind

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