I know this fan has seen a lot of you and me, in cuddled muddles
While my sweat has often caused your eyes to burn, the heat got us both
Those were some fun filled summers, those bygone years of wild love
I need to wipe the blades, my cream coloured fan blades seem grey
The the walls seem grey too, like the ceilings, the doors, the window panes
Even the trees we pointed at, where birds flocked towards to sit and sing
They seem petrified, some even have been singed in the summer sun
To think the rains left last week, like only four months ago, or was it yesterday
I seem to miss count, my mind has possibly been in a state of decay
You could at the very least holler, and maybe turn away and pretend you didn't
I have longed to hear my name in your voice, for what seems like eons
I just realised that the greys I see aren't, they are grey towards me
Like the colours don't seem to register in my lost soul due apathy
You were the one who brought colours, ride of my dreary shades
I have misplaced the colours, but I seem to have found my greys
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