Tonight there's no bag of tricks beside me out of which to spin ourselves a tale of everlasting love or a spurned lover's plea. Heartbreaks seem to have lost their wail, saccharine romance is wearing tediousness under its gossamer negligee & my heart can find no bearings in that same old wearisome detail. These sanguine arms of Horizon have come wrapped 'round crossroads of finality and Tomorrow is no more a promise than a curse lingering on infidelity’s first kiss. So don’t ask me to write another letter that drips of vows people are meant to break. Don’t tell me how those who chose to stay together, come hell or high-water, will make it till the end. Sometimes I find your faith childish, As if you refuse to see things as they stand. A dreamer who sees irrationality as a reason to spend lifetimes to make it make sense! Whereas I bury my fears and face in constellations that light up midnight's embrace, Spending each minute in solitude burning, day and night, like they do, as if there'll be reprieve in Nothingness of space. Your rose-colored beliefs have a way of leaving me irate, for where I write of hurt, you seem to find beauty but when you talk of love, I only look for expiration dates. How is it that two people who have been watching the same stars, see different meanings to take away? And since you say you know it will be okay, these sanguine arms of Horizon seem to have come wrapped ‘round crossroads of inevitability, So for the both of us light up your hearth of Hope, because to keep reality out of place, Tonight I find by my side, no bag of tricks.