If memories could paint a path of gold,
ours would be the brightest of them all.
With sparkles splattered all about,
and spray painted hearts lining the road.
If shadows could tell a life long story,
ours would be the gloomiest of them all.
With blood splattered all about,
and spray painted skulls on you and me.
If immature ways could fool the world,
our egos would be the largest of them all.
With pride splattered all about,
and spray painted freaks defining the word.
If love could do a three-sixty,
ours would fail like all of them.
With heartbreak splattered all about,
and spray painted hearts somewhere in between.
