Pictures and Stories

You’re like a picture in my mind
wrapped in snowflakes
and raindrops divine.
Some tiny elves
hiding behind
peach trees
must have etched you
in my heart’s sacred shrine.
So I spend most of my time
telling stories
of You, me,
and the ache between us
drop by drop.

You’re an opium dream
covered in stars,
clouds under feet.
You’re the secret
I secretly keep
when I tell my stories
in Music.

You’re far
but near I feel.
You’re an absence
whose presence I need;
in our Love,
I love to believe
and all that my life really is
is in Pictures and Stories.

Isn’t it crazy
that all that remains now
are those lost visions of ecstasy?
Isn’t it wild
that all the visions that haunt us now
is imagery?
Melting into Pictures and Stories

But – You’re a light in the darkness of life
and – when I’ve lost the way to heaven,
I don’t need to turn and look at the skies
for – the flame of you burns so bright
that I find my way easily – and I keep telling my stories
through Pictures, my stories
through Pictures.

It’s true we haven’t met for long
but the shape of you is an ideogram
and I’m still held spellbound,
and, in the smallish lamp of twilight’s sleep,
I still breathe your Pictures in my Stories,
I still breathe your Pictures in my Stories.

~Words and music by Ivaana