Self built walls, we were lost in translation betwixt Back-Slang and Double Dutch, the difference between our cliques is indifferent now that we're grown up but when we find ourselves as little as knee deep in love we can't help but consider the concept that we're hopelessly fucked up.
The walls we had built from the broken promises of past lovers and friends, I broke down once again but I could only trace that bridge fast enough.
In sleep I wept, whilst I slept you cried and we didn't know any different at the time, I guess it could have been fine but spooked in the face of adversity one time you started the fire that burnt that bridge, throwing any progress we may have made aside. Now, I race it's initial design but plans have been mapped behind walls rebuilt at the face of a bridge redesigned. I resign in the shallow shadows of your mind.
Your walls keep your heart safe from a snare at it's prime, so far so good, the double sided pact that, lest us forget, is as good as too bad too sad. It is as well guarded as your brain to my pine.
I bide my time, now, how I choose because this decision is tragically not mine to make. I can only create the opportunity for you to take; make a plan to love me sometime soon.