feeling like these photo-scenes - your   world is black and in-between - the   paradox you call your life   you stop to cry   i picked up where   they left off and    held you 'til you   were alive and   now the room is mirror-tricks and dappled light   and if you walk away - i won't understand   you were like a work of art - that   had its canvas torn apart and   found itself an icon   in its disarray   i was just an afterthought   who practised everything he taught   but innocence can sometimes   be an enemy   every phase is something new   with your eyes away from mine   oh this sin't living proof   it's only borrowed time   i'm here waiting for you