I'm looking out through the holes in a sweater

That she knit in the spring

The moths are feeding on the thread

And the cold is getting in

I tried to draw a picture of a pleasant memory

But every time I thought I missed her

The lead would intervene

I asked the man with charcoal eyes

Why my image wouldn't bleed

He said the lines are an illusion

That we wander in-between

When I've got it figured out

That’s when I know I'm lost

When I've got you figured out

That’s when I know I'm lost

Seems to me, I’ll always know

Unsaid words, nostalgic poems

The nakedness of everything is menacing

When I find myself alone

I found a frozen lake, cut a hole into the ice

I found the frustrated figures of men and mice

Their solitary footsteps and machines left to rust

I watched them fall to weary knees, and mingle with the dust

I met the gaze of a man, his blue eyes held the past

That solemn look told me that nothing good is ever going to last