It has been said before; that you can't see life behind still photos...
But what is it that pulls at me when I get caught staring into those eyes?
What is it about that smile, that breathes life into all who gaze upon it?
What is it about that photo, that breaks all the rules and makes one regret goodbyes?
What is the purpose of making a wish, if it could ever really come true?
What is the purpose of longing, while I'm sitting here staring at a photo of you?
What does a man wish for, if he could have one chance to make the impossible happen?
What's the purpose of making a wish, when it's a lamp that you are lackin'?
What can a man believe in, when his greatest fantasy outweighs his best reality?
What can a man hold dear, if he cannot have just one wish come true?
What is the purpose of staring, just to grow weak from a heart beating out of turn?
What is the purpose of making a wish, that's what I'm trying to construe.
Why do I find myself, longing to rub a lamp?
Why do I find myself, stinging from the past?
Why do I hold a fantasy; so dear, so close to heart?
If I could have my wish to make reality from this fantasy, where exactly would I start?
Why does this fantasy, never fade as the day grows dark?
I know that I cannot have my wish, but I hope I've left my mark.