翻訳: 対ミラー. ホーム.
As the clouds below are gently unaware that the sun did cry for us until we knew it's shape gravity pulling life from the body into a map of the seas
A window is still a window even when the glass has been removed in a fight for power as I watch the world fall apart I'd offer my hand but then I'd be
It's hard to make these letters look as beautiful as you a word too soft, too frail to be uttered or be placed in your dreams my blood was an untrusty
I'm no poor storyteller just a poverish soothsayer you can smack me into shape if you like or we could talk all night if jesus was born in a race of
I could see the souls seeping through the stones on the horizon on the horizon my movements are drapes in a state of the art your emotions lack the
Can you feel my legs begin to shake just as the aether that is under these sheets the space between this jealous air and my final attempt to sleep
(Instrumental)
I call action to the scene only a small fraction will make it to the screen this is but a contorted synapse of your perception this is exactly where
A toast to those who taste the glorious breath a sweet reminder stained on a lover's neck if it wasn't for this then I could hardly be the sadistic masochist
You are immersed in your own guilty pleasure your tongue will never reach the bottom of the bottle do I make you wet? i can surely guess that your eyes
Children twisting through the trees unconscious and unguilty here we're alone a final confession as i ask for a high drive before i take this plunge
