Why must she be the most beautiful girl here?
Why must she move in mystery’s ways?

I try to kill the memory of the day we had met.
She was looking up on the stars.
She was reading a poem she had wrought about love.
She was staring right threw me.

I had let her go.
She went away. Far away from where I had stood.
She had never notice the flowers I had sent her on her birthday.

I had left her my heart.
She had left it in the dirt.

Why am I left here thinking about her?
While she lies in another mans bed.

“Kyle you must………â€?

The same words are always spoken.
But I do not listen no more.

She had left me to think.
She had left me alone with a burning taste.

I had to kill everything.
I had to run away.

I can’t figure this….

She still walks the streets she still talks with the sweetest voice she still moves in mystery’s ways.

And am left with her memory’s
Every touch every memory she is there to hunt my presence.
I had loaded the gun.
I had washed my soul of her.
But she still lays there in my memory.