I Cry in Front of Paintings

You have a way with words
You say the same of me
Is there a universe
In which we didn't meet?
And if I loved you less, then I could talk about it more
Orpheus's turning head before he's finished the long walk
And I do not believe that he was fated to at all
I cry in front of paintings now, but not the ones I thought
They say resistance is so futile
Soft the landing, hard the fall
Oh, there you are my darling
What kept you down the hall?
I dream of you in starlight
And I choose you in the morn'
Rushing through the dust at the beginning of it all
And I less met you
I less met you than found you, mm