At the Day

At the day she came to me and said she's gone
 I brought her a flower a color so bright
 Her eyes were dark and filled with pity
 Overwhelmed by my deed
 Showing me her hands that once carried grand beauty
 So empty they're now
 So empty they're now
 With the fall of the day, she sat down in a corner of the room
 I heard her cry while reaching for the curtain that fought its way out
 Scars are carved in the wooden floors she sits on They're her final words and fall themselves with vicious honesty
 If only the one that sees me now
 Could help my life in vain
 My perfect little self
 My perfect little self has this name... perfume... what's left in me behind my dimming life...
 Do I still have to hide
 Do I still have to hide
 Stealing matters' delight redeem my eyes from what I steal from life
 From what I stand for in life
 Must I really pray to be justified