When The Pilot Dies, How Does The Plane Stay In The Air?

January 2, 2009
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I was kind of hoping to make more sense
Out of all of this,
But it only seemed to encase me in a fence
Constructed of nonsensical bliss.
And I can't seem to get my mind off of you.
I know that's the worse cliché ever,
But there's really not much else I can do
When I'm secretly hoping to be like this forever.
And I really wish I could lay it all out for you --
Tell you what love is
And nail down the colour of the ocean to a hue,
But no one ever told me there'd be a pop quiz.
I've been unprepared for everything my entire life,
And telling me to make any sort of change
Would stab me deeper with the butter knife
That you've punctured my heart with as an exchange
For all of the pain I've ever put you through.
You don't understand that I'm so desperately trying to explain
That I think I just might be in love with you
And sooner or later, I'll have to crash this plane.

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