Stranger

Stranger, the one born in May
With dark hair like they led a pride
Yea, that stranger with eyes shot red from all the dance trees trigger.
Lost in their midst 9 out of ten. Lost, lost, just far gone from reasonable reason.

Stranger, the one born in June
With sweet eyes that fought the clouds on days, they would be clear.
Yea, the stranger with hands broken and bruised from every failed attempt to do just right.
Lost in their minds 2 out of 3. Lost, lost just far gone from perfectly perfect

Stranger, the one born in May
Could someone have told you that your heart could do good if your eyes imagined it 4 out of 5? You wallow in shallow, shallow, very shallow depths, nothing reaching the core, just the surface. Surface with all the dents and scratch. Breaking, breaking, just breaking on edges and leaving, leaving dirt prints on this good ground.

This good ground, good ground that should grow the roses that bloom all bright red in July
Stranger, stranger, the one born in May. Someone should have told me. Told you all the ways to heal your heart lest you Splatter fresh broken glasses on the sun-kissed skin.
Stranger, stranger, the one born in July, someone should have told you. Told you all the ways evil exists lest it covers your face, leaving shadows of nights and nights we pray to forget.

Stranger, stranger. Someone should have loved you.