Your Head As My Favourite Bookstore Eleventwelfth (Ft. Asteriska)

I'm neglecting my realm to dissent your repeating line
But according to you all those letters were written out right
Confusing it seems but subconsciously rereading the poem you've had sent to me
It blows a straight understanding of what may and may not rhyme
Inside those pages you've handed down

Beyond this library of our mind
You've found the shelf where our moment was emphasized
You vent it to your blank note
A white paper full of false hope

Here now your chapters are closing
Your sentence is losing its depth to compile each character you're fusing
The words that you're using it felt less amusing
And the syllables failed to describe all my wonder

Sometimes i would sit at the balcony
Pairing all the vivid lights to bear away all those memories
The one that got me stuck on hold while i'm addressing your head as my favourite bookstore

To quote the sole author, i'll rewrite the story where it ends in a halt
I vent it to my blank note
A white paper full of false hope

Sometimes i would sit at the balcony
Pairing all the vivid lights to bear away all those memories
The one that got me stuck on hold while i'm addressing your head as my favourite bookstore
Sometimes i would sit at the balcony
Pairing all the vivid lights to bear away all those memories
The one that got me stuck on hold while i'm addressing your head