This boy I know, he has a heart of glass
It is gold inside but it has crystallized
It is beautiful, but in its tragedy
It is hard to hold without shattering
...
But this boy I know, he is pure of soul
He just gets lost sometimes in his chemicals
Under a coat of night, it's all so comforting
And that first breaking light becomes his enemy.
...
All the cracks you see can be repaired
And if you start to fall, we will be there
Don't drown yourself in all your old regret
Because that heaviness will steal away your breath.
Tilly and the Wall
The metaphysical got in just under the wire.
He knew now that he would never have let it in, if he'd always been what he was supposed to be. It was here now. Many things were, that he would never give back, that he would never have had without the cracks.
Renfield had been cracked. The man he held had been broken.
Set.
There wasn't anything for it. Not in the way he thought there had been before. Careful strategy sessions held behind the closed doors of his mind, or behind those doors that existed in the metaphysical. Detailed instructions marked upon a map and the realization that he hadn't any idea what to do once he'd reached his destination.
Many shades of unstable foolishness he'd balanced himself upon in preference to his own two feet upon level ground.
His thoughts had no specific direction. No desperate predictions, no terrified vetting of every possibility.
When he looked off, it wasn't at anyone present. When he nodded, it wasn't meant for an unconscious Ray. And when he directed the thought, it was just slightly accented.
Calm down. Just see what happens.
It is gold inside but it has crystallized
It is beautiful, but in its tragedy
It is hard to hold without shattering
...
But this boy I know, he is pure of soul
He just gets lost sometimes in his chemicals
Under a coat of night, it's all so comforting
And that first breaking light becomes his enemy.
...
All the cracks you see can be repaired
And if you start to fall, we will be there
Don't drown yourself in all your old regret
Because that heaviness will steal away your breath.
Tilly and the Wall
The metaphysical got in just under the wire.
He knew now that he would never have let it in, if he'd always been what he was supposed to be. It was here now. Many things were, that he would never give back, that he would never have had without the cracks.
Renfield had been cracked. The man he held had been broken.
Set.
There wasn't anything for it. Not in the way he thought there had been before. Careful strategy sessions held behind the closed doors of his mind, or behind those doors that existed in the metaphysical. Detailed instructions marked upon a map and the realization that he hadn't any idea what to do once he'd reached his destination.
Many shades of unstable foolishness he'd balanced himself upon in preference to his own two feet upon level ground.
His thoughts had no specific direction. No desperate predictions, no terrified vetting of every possibility.
When he looked off, it wasn't at anyone present. When he nodded, it wasn't meant for an unconscious Ray. And when he directed the thought, it was just slightly accented.
Calm down. Just see what happens.