Give me the Pages, I'll write you a Life.
Filled with the scents of cigarettes and sea-salt,
the brush of warm leather between cold fingertips.
Is this what you wanted? No. But may it all be my fault;
my last shred of Worth given between pen, hand, and lips.

Give me the Pages, I'll write you a Life
Lined with the glow of city lights and star-shine,
a touch of forgiveness beneath hope and regret.
Why so much confusion? No. I made it too hard to find;
this gift of a Heart you'll throw with the rest to forget.

Give me the Pages, I'll write you a Life.
Painted in laughter from anguishes and joy's smile,
this is my confession throughout fear's tangled mess.
Have I really trusted? No. Yet stay with me for a while;
I must leave to Heal but I will miss you nonetheless.

This shattered breath is all I have left
And may it be enough sacrifice for Time.
You have no courage, so in Tales you dwell best, but
Give me the Pages, I'll write you a Life.