The Artist

I know that you're an artist
But you're the hardest one to deal with
Everything that you conceal
Is revealed on your canvas

You find all of your ugly meanings
In all of the things I find beautiful
Do you see the fall is coming
Come, I'm falling into you

You perceive all of these things
I'd never have known
Love, will you turn off the lights
We're already home

You painted me in pastel
Colors that don't tell of any boldness
That's the way you love to see me
So delicate, so weak, so little purpose

But your eyes are drawn of charcoal
They're black, they're so cold, they're so imperfect
Because they see a sleeping world
Where waking isn't worth it

You perceive all of these things
I'd never have known
Love, will you turn off the lights
We're already home