She looked up to the sky.
As it poured,
As it poured.
As it cried,
Like the inside
Of her core
Of her core.
She looked up to the sky,
Thinking why
Thinking why,
She had to think
What she was thinking inside.
The storm takes form,
And she's still outside.
"A false hope that that is me"
She murmurs,
Her heart is worn on her sleeve.
"It is utterly impossible,
To think he's wanting me."
She went through,
She went through,
All of the thoughts in her head.
And she knew
And she knew
That they were all dead.
False hopes that she wanted so terribly to see,
That they were truest of true can be.
She sits down and closes her eyes.
As the moonlight comes and stains the lies.
"That certain boy could not be thinking about me.
Hell, he is quite older than me.
And I have no idea how to reach him,
And even if I did what would I say?
'Hi I've heard your songs,
I think I'm the one'?
That is impossible to me.
I'm blinded and cannot see,
Relying on false hopes that you need me."
Her heart,
Sewn on her sleeve,
Sewn on her sleeve.
With love in every weave
And every stitch.
Hear heart,
Swen on her sleeve,
Sewn on her sleeve,
With the thoughts of him
In every stitch.














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