Cut through

You are a star that fell asleep.

Always sad and always eerie.
From your slumber I grew weary.

You would sometimes wake up briefly, 
just to light this constellation 
made of promises and dust
and a love that was unjust.

Always sad and always eerie.
From your slumber I grew weary.

And in this playground that you made
within yourself, for me to wade
in this imaginary shade
there I made the biggest trade.

Always sad and always eerie.
From your slumber I grew weary.

Now I remember,
the bluest stars are the ones that burn the most.