I know that you're an artist
But you're the hardest one to deal with
Everything that you conceal
Is revealed on your canvas
You find all of your ugly meanings
In all of the things I find beautiful
Do you see the fall is coming
Come, I'm falling into you
You perceive all of these things
I'd never have known
Love, will you turn off the lights
Cause we're already home
You painted me in pastel
Colors that don't tell of any boldness
That's the way you love to see me
So delicate, so weak, so little purpose
But your eyes are drawn of charcoal
They're black, they're so cold, they're so imperfect
Because they see a sleeping world
Where waking isn't worth it
You perceive all of these things
I'd never have known
Love, will you turn off the lights
Cause we're already home
Writer(s): Bob Morris, Greta Morgan Salpeter
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