Premier I Am The Atlantic
The background music thins
Leaving only the strings
The audience falls silent to listen to her sleeping
We whisper through phone lines
That choke the life out of me sometimes
I can barely breath
The elegance of black and white photography
Is set off by a set of eyes so blue it's blinding
The medic says, he's drowning
The doctor says, we've got a heartbeat
And my mother says
Just rest, sweetie, your lungs are too shallow to breath
All I've got left is to pull at these heart-strings
Until I strike a chord that'll make you come back to me
We hate the way we are sometimes
Her hair's still caught in power-lines
And there's no light left in my eyes
