A stolen contingency more precious than gold,
A stolen shirt to keep out the cold
Time we stole, the months not ours
Me and you and all the countless hours.
A morsel of the red of you,
Because that's all I thought I was meant
And when inner talkings turned to screams for more roses instead of rust
I broke my mirror because it showed me what I lacked,
Turning all my hope for you to dust,
And a morsel of me you'll say is all you...