sotto la stessa luna

and if the sun had come up just fifteen minutes early, they would have missed it.
but as it rose, there they stood, rising with it, so to speak.
their chests sighing almost in unison and their eyes on the horizon.
as they felt the first rays of a new day's sun fall across their faces,
they turned towards each other and felt a warmth no dawn could replicate.
a heat, a fire, a passionate dawn of their own.

and they stood.
and looked.
and were as the sun was.

new.

crazy

it's crazy how it's not that hard
it's crazy how it's not that far
to walk across a country just to fall into your arms
it's crazy that it happened like this
it's crazy how everything is irrelevant
except the words on your lips
but is it that crazy to wanna give you the moon
and would it be crazy if i wanted until june
and is it that crazy that i would wait ten years and not a minute too soon
but if it really came down to whether you're happy or not
or whether or not you had to break out of your comfort spot
it's really not that crazy when you really look at what we got
and can have.

in homage or mockery

clawing at the seams of everything you deemed as perfect
discrediting the scene you loved for what was on the surface
you have to ask yourself honestly, was it really worth it,
to have all you ever wanted just to throw it to the servants?
so how am i to understand exactly what went wrong here,
when vox of old depress the cold and write a whole new song, dear
to sing, if not in homage then in mock of what once was
a killing moon may kill at noon, but dares not kill my buzz
i guarantee that in the trees lie secrets of the wind
the falling leaves may once have breathed, but will not breathe again
if changing tides in time decide the strength with which it blows,
then to change directions you need only change what you now know