"It kills me not to know this, but I've all but just forgotten
What the color of her eyes were, her scars or how she got them."
A grey mask, surrounded by emptiness. My view zooms in for a closer look at the empty eyes. The holes flash green, gray, blue, before returning to the original view. I take not of its smooth, plastic curves. Like a mask for a masquerade, or a drama mask. The mouth is set in a line, blank and unappealing. Next, I see the back of a curvy, nude woman. Her back is covered in short, thick, white lines, like stab wounds. The woman turns, and I get a flash of blonde hair, before it changes again.
"As the telling signs of age rain down, a single tear is dropping
Through the valleys of an aging face that this world has forgotten."
Grey rain falls from a grey sky. The only color is the reflections of peachy pale skin in the raindrops. The rain slows and stops, leaving the sky dark and resentful. I return to the mask, but aged wrinkles are there now, and the mouth is curved downwards and slightly open. The eyes curve downwards on either end, and a tear runs from the corner of its right eye, down to wet its lips. The holes for eyes pull on my sympathy, and briefly I feel the emptiness of being alone, the overpowering feeling of self-inadequacy.
------------My brain skipped a few lines------------
"So tell me now if this ain't love then how do we get out?
'Cause I don't know!"
A man's face. His face is young, but overly wrinkled and shaded, like the muscles on old statues of angles under great pressure. His tears streamed down his cheeks, disappearing under his chin. His short hair was messy and damp, making in wavy and stick up in places around the edges. His eyes were blue, and wide with anger and insanity. At 'I don't know' he put his fists to his head, and attempts to tear out his hair at the roots, his knuckles turning white with the effort.
"That's when she said I don't hate you boy
I just want to save you while there's still something left to save!"
In the background is a dimly light room, and the front of a large stuffed chair, covered in deep green cloth and studded with brass. The room dances with the light of a fire, presumable from a nearby fireplace. A woman with luscious black hair and creamy skin stares me in the face. But remember, in this dream, I'm only witnessing, so she's really staring through me, at the man whom I've described before. She has her arms spread out, thin and graceful, but her fingers are spread out in anger and frustration. Her eyebrows pull upwards in the middle, and her eyes are shiny from tears, though none mar her face yet. Her mouth is open, moving with the lyrics on screen. At 'left to save' she throws her arms down, and the tears begin to fall down her high cheekbones.
------------My brain skipped a few lines, again------------
"That's when I told her I love you girl
But I'm not the answer for the questions that you still have, oh, oh."
It's the man's face again, but his unreal amount of stress lines have disappeared, and his tear are drier that before. It's zoomed close on his face again, and he seems younger. In the background, his arms are raised as well. His lips dance with the lyrics of the song, and on the second line, his expression changes to something I would see on someone shrugging, though I can't see his shoulders, I see his arms move upwards, palm raised to the sky, as if to say, "Oh well, you're on your own." He turns his face away now, utterly unconcerned.