Lime Lies

Red granite crumbles I fear you are loosening the vice. I need your tools to stay in repair but you are tired of working. So I wander along tracks of ink and ponder by deep wells. Could you be drawing blueprints for the day you say goodbye? I break, slowly, at the very thought, picking withered daisies, losing hope. There isn't much to love in me, there isn't much to stay for. Seams of pain down warped-steel spine. I cannot bear the words. Your eyes are honest, your lies are lime. Say it isn't so, my love.