Your eyes they conjure up those Cliffs of Moher,
Far away and not listening anymore,
Dreaming of life on another shore,
Not here, not now, with me, the bore.
So I stop talking and fade to bleak,
Feeling insignifi cant, atrophied and weak.
Even though it's not who I know myself to be,
The Queen, the Confi dence,
But I was 14 with my passion,
And 15 with my best.
16 with my ego,
And zero with the rest.
My heart is a P.O.W. tangled in my chest,
I don't know how to communicate in a cardiac arrest.
Your eyes they drown me in your sadness.
Your words they bring hurricanes.
Braving Shakespearean tempest,
The Mighty Tiger,
I think I found the one,
Silent suffering inside.
The one who got away,
I was too dangerous to hide.
So I stop talking, baby, cause you always want me to shut up.
Take the center stage meanwhile I become your trusted, silent prop.
So take good care, this mighty woman's ready to explode,
Fire here below the surface of my volcano.