Gotye
Heart's a Mess

The white smoke curls seductively into the darkness.  It is delicate but pervasive, inching its way into the hidden spaces you guard so stiffly. It caresses and grazes against your bare skin.  You feel a confusion of both hot and cold; it warms you with its affection, but chills you with its expertise.  Patiently aggressive…the smoke slowly, cleverly consumes your space with its presence. You are scared of suffocating, yet live to breathe him in.

But oh, his pleas are drawn with more sorrow than the pulls of a violin.  The sound is so desperate and worn; your heart aches to believe him.   Then, just as you begin to open your door...the smoke disappears through the crack – swiftly, mischievously. He taps away onto the next note without a care, barely even leaving you an echo.  In a wink and a chime, he is gone.

You want to believe the words, but you’ve heard the tune before.