The Collector

Why can't I let it go?
I'm tired of impossibilities
Chasing down a ghost
To pin it like a butterfly
And hang it on my wall for beauty

I was running through the noise
Playground photographs of me
Chasing down the boys
And tripping over shoelaces
I'll hold them down to touch their beauty

Oh, I collect what I cannot hold
I collect what I ache for
I collect what I can't let go...
I collect all I can!

It's not that I want
What I haven't got
Or that I want what I'm not - oh!
But in between the wanting and the being
Everything, everything
Is so much lovlier, contained

There's beauty in my ears
In a broken song that has no ending
A bridge between the years
A canopy of faded branches
Where is the color?
Where are my souvenirs?