Today is never good enough to keep. We long for the unreachable tomorrow. Perfection's in our hands and yet we weep, until we've nothing left but perfect sorrow.
We set our goals completely out of sight, beyond the far horizons of a chance that we will have to step into the light and mount the stage of life to start the dance.
For love and for the lack of love we've wept and, blinded by despair, we cannot see the world is filled with love we won't accept because we long for love that cannot be.
And while our nights are begging life to stay ... our days are busy pushing it away.
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