Cerulean

See, I often dream in cerulean blue,
and wish every word we spoke was brand new.
So I suppose what I mean is,
I wish I knew you,
and me, I wish I was anything but me.
Maybe one then would've seen
the everything or the nothing in the something.
Maybe someday you'll see how free the world became
when you crossed that line and held me there.
I think I loved you then,
but I suppose you're right, I really don't know,
whether the world is flat or round,
so how could I know this person I found?
What I know is when you left, I think I drowned.
Because I thought you saw me,
I thought you touched me there,
I thought one in a billion finally cared.
But I see that was all a dream,
I know I'm just meat and was meant to be,
always just a short-lived fantasy.
I do understand,
I was just one moment,
and you're gone.
But why can't I stop waiting for you by the sea,
to come back and whisper you want me?
I know though,
I know how it's supposed to be for me.
See, a guitar can't ever sing for a mandolin,
and the sky is blue, never cerulean.