Rats

Ephemeral Sun

Compositor: Não Disponível

Thought I would find you here
Sleeping with sick fear, you
taste stale flesh with dull green eyes, a
Sad old hat of dust and flies

Black heels and bent wheels
blisters on skin peeled, no
chance is left beneath this knife
renounce and abdicate this strife

"Your words can't reach me, you'll
die if your hands touch me
Lost in your aimless lies you're
all dry leaves and I am the fire"