Quicksand is a code of arms Lose sleep with some liquid fiction Last rites every Friday night While we cool with the lights on High tide tied around
翻訳: ドリラーキラー. Weakend戦士.
i signed up today to take you for a ride i love the weekend it makes my mind survive but i could see some distance i could see some distance in your eyes
: i signed up today to take you for a ride i love the weekend it makes my mind survive but i could see some distance i could see some distance in your
You reign supreme on your pedestal Protest music is just your stepping stone And the bastards that buy in are just meek and oppressed You write the rules
Quicksand is a coat of arms, Looseleaf and some liquid fiction. Last Rites every Friday night, Am I weaker with the lights on? High tide tight around
: This is the last night I'll be writing you. If apologies mean nothing than neither do these photographs that hang on my wall. So, let's look at our
: Kiss me mid-sentence and cut me off before I say too much. You and I both know we can't screw this one up. So close your eyelids and slit my throat
: I'll bite my nails down to the skin as i sketch and plan the artistry, use these wires as tapestry and turn the sky to ash and debris. Step by step
: A day in May. Cut the cord and leave the lights out. We'll pull our guns out, take our paces while tripping on laces And your heart races as sweat
: Stick around for a little bit sweet-pea, i've got a story to tell and noone's listening. Even this paper isn't patient enough. This time i'll grab
: Glass will encircle my body As I wrap my indulgence around this tree In a state like this, at a time like this, it's worth the accident In this parallel
: The snow was falling gently, but she radiated summer, And the winter melted at her feet Her eyes were emerald green, which impeccably matched her frozen
: This is but a figment of your imagination, what you see is what you get. So imagine me guiding your hips, with short breath from lips and my tongue
: This is not a test and i've grown rediculously fond of pissing all my good ideas away. It's like a prostitute, you better walk away. We had big plans
: i have come to terms with my existence my pain, my head, my life, my regrets im just human afterall please father don't abandon family you promised
: Green eyes, Sharp teeth, Have terrorized this town since 1870. Great cries and screams. Soft spots of fur that have fallen like the leaves. You wouldn
