Her Hair Was Blue, And So Was Her Mood

Tell me, where I should look,
In the notes of your music or the words in your books? 
Under the bed or on the window pane,
On the rooftop or somewhere down the lane?
In the memories or in the polaroid photos,
Tell me, in which part of our home,
Can I find you again- alive,
Fully well and alright?
Hazy, like pieces of a puzzle,
Without you, I can't get past this hurdle.
Ironic, isn't it, how I need your help,
To get over you not being there.
So I dyed my hair blue,
And pierced my lip, too.
Thinking if I change into someone new,
I'll find you again without much further ado.
How? Don't ask me why,
Why I thought of doing something so wild.
But I did, and now my hair as well as my mood,
Is always blue, always just looking for you.