Blind and Hazy

I sat beneath the willow tree and smiled to the air;
the rain, it filled my yellow cup and told me you were there,
and I held onto our branches, the ones that held our name,
and told the leaves that I'm okay, that you were not to blame.

And I laughed and I cried and I smiled and danced;
upon the moon rising, I gave it a chance,
and it crashed and it burned and it tore at my heart:
swimming in secrets that can't bear to part,
and I'm blind and I'm hazy, my eyes cannot see -
without you as my guidance, my future's not free.

I paid for this life, like I paid for the booze
that lined our carpet, next to your sweaty shoes,
and I remembered the tales, upon which we took a chance
and I laughed and I cried and I smiled and danced.

And I'm blind and I'm hazy, my eyes cannot see -
I'm begging and pleading, but my future's not free,
and it crashed and it burned and it tore at my heart
your silky skin and cedar eyes, I cannot bear to part.

Maybe you were broken;
maybe your sky got black;
but I once had a broken doll,
and once fixed, she came back.