The cracks do show

Though I can see no true detail

In your fragile eyes,

The cracks do show.

They show a resounding quality

In the broken pieces

That sings a monotone

With small fragments

Beatboxing about strange tides,

They walk each night

Beating themselves up

So to somehow find something,

Or anything that would be,

Should be worthy enough to hold

And come back and show.

That we might have lost everything

But here, here is a little chip

Of that broken mirror,

Perhaps there is still hope

after all.

These cracks of ours, do show

As we try to keep the song together

But the cracks still show;

The tune is still a bit wrong

And the beat is just too slow

For such a fast-paced dancer like I.

It was this crazy beat!

You see, this funky beat stole my feet

And my heart and yours did not

Beatbox in automated synchrony anymore.

I guess it was my fault after all

I broke the coded nature of our affair;

The systematic nature in how

We compose our songs -

The beautiful drum beats, mystic jazz

And the strings attached.

Beautiful chords on the background

And the melodic voices

Raising our feet.

I hope these walls can hold

Just one more night,

But the cracks do show.