i only see blue instead

***

I want to wear his initial on a chain round my neck/not because he owns me/but because he really knows me -> If I can't relate to you anymore/Then who am I related to? -> You say you don’t understand, and I say I know you don’t -> He don’t understand me

***

Is this the end of all the endings/my broken bones are mending -> Did I close my fist around something delicate/Did I shatter you? -> You throw off missiles cause you hate yourself/did you know you’re demolishing me -> Another summer, taking cover, rolling thunder

***

And all at once, you are the one I have been waitin' for/King of my heart, body and soul -> Sorry for not making you my centerfold/Over and over -> Don’t put me in the basement when I want the penthouse of your heart -> Frontlines don’t you ignore me/I’m the best thing at this party

***

I've been sleeping so long in a twenty-year dark night/Now I only see daylight -> Lost again with no surprises/Disappointments, close your eyes/And it gets colder and colder/ as the sun goes down -> Looking at this room we loved in cause of the light/now I sit in the dark and wonder if it’s time -> My spine split from carrying us up the hill/wet through my clothes weary bones caught the chill

***

I love shiny things but I’d marry you with paper rings -> The mischief, the gift-wrapped suburban dreams/Sorry for not winning you an arcade ring/over and over -> I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist/I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift -> You swore that you loved me but where were the clues/I died on the altar waiting for the proof

***

Have my back, yeah, every day/Feels like home -> Did I leave you hanging every single day? -> There was nowhere for me to stay, but I stayed anyways -> I left all I knew you left me at the house, by the Heath -> every breath feels like rarest air when you’re not sure if he wants to be there

***

I’m with you even if it makes me blue -> Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest grey? -> My face was grey but you wouldn’t admit that we were sick -> How much sad did you, think I had in me

***

i hate you for what you did, and i miss you like a little kid

And that John Watson would be so compelled to write about Holmes that the first mystery that is ever investigated, at the beginning of "A Study in Scarlet" is Watson studying Holmes, of trying to solve the mystery of who Holmes is and how he ticks.

And how they come to know and need each other.

I think to observe / gaze at a subject for such a long period of time is to come to love it... like an artist sketching a still life comes to love the subject, to see all the crooks and the bends of a ladder and to see it and try to do it justice by copying it down.

I think this is what compels Watson to write, which is very romantic.

But in his writing to the public Watson also exaggerates, misunderstands, and misportrays Holmes in his writings... I think a lot of it stems from Watson's undervaluing his own importance, being confused by Holmes' feelings towards him, or trying to pull the wool over the public... or all three... like when he says that Holmes never thinks about the softer passions in A Scandal in Bohemia.

I mean look at the two stories Holmes writes down versus how Watson sometimes portrays Holmes. Watson's portrayal of Holmes at least to me does not line up with the sentimental and comparatively even-keeled voice of Holmes in the Lions Mane or the Blanched soldier.

Also to think that the mythos of this huge figure of Sherlock Holmes was all started by this depressed guy (Watson) who felt the most alive with Holmes, and who wanted to immortalize his view of the man he loved, and that Watson inspired so many people to love Holmes too.