The blue crescent is my broken mirror, eyes torn in two / Darkness on brakes, the dim light of inertia, scared of you know who / The blue crescent hides under the clouds, like a child that hides under the bed / I know I have a lot to thank you for, but I choose to taunt you instead / The blue crescent is cold and sharp, like a blade asking for blood / Blood that streams so blue, sticky like glue, on the way to a lake so sad / The blue crescent craves for its dark half, just a few shades keep them apart / The life span of a heart on thawed glass, gone in a breath and a half / And as the blue crescent dives in the flat line, running to hide from the sun / I turn to you, my heart so blue, to throw some ink on the intended pun