we could have combined our pens to make a four hands drawing, i had vivid colors, you had more paper than you needed. you could have painted the ground and what lays at your feet while i would have sketched some clouds in red and orange, you could have handed me some green if my own was too dark and i would have left you white space and given you my black,
and if you could not tell where we would go blue, it’s because i could not find what to make of you,
i would not have watched how your colors blended, i would have kept secret why i had put that clock in,
and if you had asked why it seemed to be fading, it’s because bleaching is the way i’m loving.

i would have let you the sky, but i would have made its borders, you could have wanted a forest, then i would have built a fire, you could have run out of pink, and it would not have mattered, i would have splashed red stains and called it desire,
and if you had painted a bed, i would have drawn our bodies, and if you had painted love, i would have made worries,
you could have drawn the sun and me the shadows, i could have drawn your smiles and you my sorrows,
i would not have watched how your colors blended, i would have kept secret why i had put that road in,
and if you had asked why it seemed to disappear, it’s because bleaching is the way i’m loving…

and when your canvas would have been covered with your happiness and my lies,
you would have watched our broken promises and i would have raised my glass,
see, i’m the one who cannot tell whether it’s real or bright or empty
and you’re one to scratch the surface to find what could have been
and if you had asked what was in me that you could not see,
i would have warned you, bleaching is the way i’m loving…