107 Windows

107 windows reflect every thought I left unsaid Despite my urge, I did not greet a soul when I fled I had my reasons like I know you always will have yours & There's no use in licking any wounds While dwelling in a nest made of pins No charm is left in any of our flaws My coin has been tossed I'm on the wrong side of this story My star has gone black but I cannot say I'm sorry You'd better heal those broken arms before you welcome anybody in Cause feeling lonely being many, well I have known it to be grim The word is crouching in slow motion And you laugh to cover up your frown I'll go on dancing limp 'Till I find a groove to walk on I'll find a groove to walk on My coin has been tossed I'm on the wrong side of this story My stars have gone blue but I cannot say I'm sorry I' ll pay what is due Here on the wrong side of this story My star has gone black but I will not say Sorry