Yellow

You can only talk so much about things that are never, ever going to happen
My brother’s at home with his dog and his cat and his wife is at a friend’s
You can only go on so long about feelings that never, ever actually touch you
No matter how much she told him «I love you,» he found it would depend
On the gifts that he bought her
Or how badly she was hurt
When the boss was cruel at work
But he’d just say «I love you,» and he’d reach out to her
He was feeling like shit when I came to visit and walked through the door of
his tiny apartment
We went for a walk through the park by the market so we could get some air
And I told to him all things intended to help him, especially that,
simply because it was ending
That that didn’t mean she was always pretending. Real happiness was there
I could see and I could tell
It was real love that they felt
And I’m sorry it didn’t end well
But some things just don’t — that’s life, and you shouldn’t blame yourself
And all of these things, well, I truly believe them. Our paths and our futures
are hidden in mists
That are stretching out over impossible distances, totally obscured
And I really do think that there’s probably more good than anger or selfishness,
sickness or sadness
Would ever completely allow us to have in this life. I think I’m sure
But that doesn’t mean it’s bad
We were walking towards our dad
While getting out of that school bus
And he just said «I love you,» and he reached out to us