Tuesday, July 21, 2009

you be the anchor that keeps my feet on the ground, and i'll be the wings that keep your heart in the clouds.

i heart Mayday Parade.
Tell me once again, that you'll love me to the death. And should I die, you swear that you will come for me. As I fade away, you reach out your hand, and please don't let me go. And I'll be here by the ocean just waiting for proof that there's sunsets and silhouette dreams. All my sand castles fall like the ashes of cigarettes, and every wave drags me to sea. I could stand here for hours just to ask God the question, "Is everyone here make-believe?" With a tear in His voice, He said, "Son, that's the question." Does this deafening silence mean nothing to no one but me?

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