Rapture

These hearts are built to sound the saddest of tunes
Tor ring the shades of hungry needles and scars of old longing
Where our numbered days meet our best intentions lay clouded by the weights we carried in our hearts and on our skin
Where can I fall when there's no-one to catch me?
What will I do when my soul breaks?
Who'll hear me then?
Dear, keep those clouds at bay