The Smell of Watermelon or Grass

If I had known the words to use,
I would've written you a song,
something sweet and just right,
that'd knock you off your feet.


Oh, I'd write it on the wall,
in a dozen notebooks, I'd fill them all.
I would take a moment, look them over, 
then scatter the pages.


Words are everything, it seems,
though simple actions speak much louder.
Who would have thought,
this would be about you and me?
What a broken duet.


Oh, I'd write it on the wall,
in a dozen notebooks (maybe more),
I'd fill them all (front and back, each page),
Look them over, just a moment,
Then rip apart each page.

Please tell me those unspoken phrases,

let me see that feeling in your eyes. 

I would've written you a song, 

would've told you every lie, made everything better,

would've let you know, that I'm hiding everything.

You can have it all now. 

It was yours anyway. 

Broken heart, a hundred pieces on the floor,
Didn't take it well, left everything on the ground. 
I'm nothing but a voice without ability.
A charity case without destination. 

Oh, I'd write it on the wall,

in a dozen notebooks, I'd fill them all.