Neither Nor

Sitting in commentary chairs, relying on the wind to show our dreams to the world.
I heard your wish for your picture to be painted with the eyes like galaxies.
Impossible, there is no substance behind eyelids that flutter too quickly.
Besides, my paint is all but dried upon my skin to resemble battle wounds.
The dark cannot hold you, nor will it be the chemicals relieve your sins.
So yeah, I guess I just stole your star from where you held it,
You never kept it close enough to treasure but I guess it kept you warm.
Now it seems too close to me because I feel it burning to the core.
And don't you talk to me about being weak when your angel still hangs over your head.