I used to be so inspirednThe words of my heartnWould flow to my headnI'd write 'til I grew tirednEach verse I nurturenEach sentence I adorenMy senses suddenly stopnWhen you walk through the doornSometimes I think too far above the cloudsnSometimes I want to hide beneath this shroudnEven though I hear the crowd clear and loudnI'm not ready to give you upnNo, not ready to give you upnnMy mind is a slideshownFlashes a grayscale of you and menSome are kind of hard to seenSome we're smiling subconsciouslynFirst it starts in the mindnThe thoughts of us togethernThen it travels to the heartnAnd it drops slowly like a feathernThe lungs want to declarenThat it's just not fairnI have to hold them backnKeeping this love in tactnnThese parts form emotions nThat all connect to the inmost soulnBut the love I hoard insidenMeans nothing when summer days are coldnAnd then these confessions begin to unfold