I painted a picture of you in my mind on a brand new white canvas. I admired my work and I fell in love. I stood by it for days, then for weeks, then for months. Then you walked in the room, set my picture on fire. (Are you ready to pay for what you did?) And I looked in dismay at the person I painted. (Are you ready to pay ’cause I can’t forgive) “Oh no, this can’t be you, you couldn’t have acted that way,” I screamed out as my masterpiece went up in flames. I broke down when the ashes spilled on the ground. I looked up at a stranger I thought I had known. Does this mean that I never loved you? Does this mean that I never even knew you at all? I painted a picture of you in my mind. And I left it in black and white. (I drew you like I thought you should be. I drew you so perfectly.) I kept out the details that I didn’t like. And I thought it was perfect. And I knew it was wrong but I painted away. (Are you ready to pay for what you did?) (I) thought that I could convince myself in this way. (Are you ready to pay ’cause I can’t forgive) All the things I denied yet I knew deep inside—it’s so much easier to just lie. So I lied. We stand two feet apart like two strangers unknown. We don’t speak the same language. Are you listening at all? And that look in your eyes never did feel like home but I made it mine. I made it my own. And I think it’d be best if we just stayed away from each other right now, at least just for today. But it’s so easy to miss you. You’re all that I know. ‘Cause I made you mine. I made you my own. I broke down as the ashes had fell on the ground. I looked up at a stranger I thought I had known. Does this mean that I never loved you? Does this mean that I never knew you? Does this mean that I’ll never even know you at all? So we start, start talking again now that we have a new place to begin. And as I’m listening I start to paint you again. Does this mean that I never loved you? Does this mean that I never knew you? Does this mean that I’ll never even know you at all?
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