Sometimes I get so still it makes me dizzy.
I end my solo moonlight dance and bow out gracefully.
Sometimes I still let you play the prophet in my head,
as I play back the words you said.
So in my mind I can go back in time and tell you,
you were wrong.

And you'd say, "Remember the time I called you wildflower?
I guess you took me a little too seriously."
You'd say, "It's not just you,
it's your bravado that causes my worry."
I can see you saying this to me.

One time I undressed my soul to wander.
I found a greener shade of meadow
and sat right down to rest.
That time you rolled your eyes away to ponder
the things your own soul took for granted
and your own loneliness, but I digress.

'Cause you'd say, "Remember the time I called you a river fat with your own rain?
I guess you took me a little too seriously."
You'd say, "It's not just you,
it's your bravado that causes my worry."
I can see you saying this to me.

Myself, I don't have anyone to blame
except your self-appointed sacrifice to save me.
Though you know nothings ever gonna change,
you try your, "baby, baby, baby's".

And now, sometimes I still relive your benediction.
Sounds like the voice of a thousand angels armed to rescue me.
Sometimes I still paint my door red
and say a prayer that your spirit won't pass there.
That all these wisdoms of a lifetime of just-like-yous has set me free.

And you'd say, "Remember the time I called you a kiss blown from a thousand miles away?
I guess you took me a little too seriously."
Yes I know it's not just me,
it's my bravado that causes my worry.
I can see you saying this to me.