What does this look like to you?

A mark so fine, you barely see.

You have one just like it, too—

A twisting vine,

A mark so fine;

Cause I love you with all I am

And you love me because you are

As fearless as a twisting vine,

A mark so fine

But still a scar



Fear plays dumb then eats the soul

Like a vagabond with a fishing pole

He whistles but he cannot sing,

It's an awful tune

But very soon

I find that I am whistling, too

And your window is like a star

That I sit beneath like a vagabond

Who wears his fear

Just like a scar



The blade of our outrageous fortune

Like a parade, it cuts a path,

Light shows on our foolish way

And darkness on

our aftermath;

If I love you to save myself

And you love me because we are

So fool to think that our parade

Could leave a path

But not a scar



And I love you with all I am

And you love me with what you are—

As pretty as a twisting vine,

A mark so fine

But still a scar