I was the sand,
and you were the sea.
I was the forest,
and you were the trees.
We were the harmony
of our own perfect song;
we were the colors
of a mural stretching miles long.
But you were the earth,
and I was a dove;
you only wanted me to sing,
while I yearned to spread my wings.
I'd taste the sky
and sing my song
and leave you far blow,
so small, left wondering "So,
that's the song
she was born to sing.
She never could have
sung that song for me."