Dark, dreary tinted lens
Put on your shades
To watch the masquerade
Colours fade, washed from your face
The printer turns grey
Draining our emotions
As they bleed
Out onto parchment
Saturated
As life seems to be
But dried up ink can still leave a mark
Even in the dark, hands hold sparks
Your page may burn, the ink may fade
But parts of it still remain
Candle wicks, just ember in the dark
Wax stamps shrouded in our hearts
Burned until our eyes are turned
The marks can still be discovered
As they plead
For peace and content
Lost in the depths of memory
But dried up ink can still leave a mark
Even in the dark, hands hold sparks
Your page may burn, the ink may fade
But parts of it still remain
I just wanna leave it
Really
I wanna leave it
Alright then