What Is This?

It was early morning out on the rooftop.
I was searching the skyline for planes.
I always wait to see one crash into a star.
I always wait to see you.

I couldn't help but make you the subject,
My dreams springing from my truer self,
The one who cannot resist.

So I wrote stories in my mind.
I made universal truths for myself.
I occupied my days with things that distract.
And yet I filled my nights with cool reflection.

It was early morning out on my rooftop.
I was searching myself for answers.
I always wait to see two souls collide.
I always wait to see you.

What is this essense of engulfment?
Who are these hands working for?
What of myself could you ever truely trust?
How could I prove that my work is for you?

Well I think it's quite obvious that it is.
Another night alone on my rooftop.
And I saw a plane crash into a star.