Cracked skull, his eye twitches. Every ounce of paint thickens and dries. His centipede fingers curl around my back to make sure I’m still there, Educing me; enchanting me. Green eyes in the black light, strewn across his lop-sided bed. Awake to shakes, twitches, and he speaks; To wake up only in my dreams... Dying girl holds dead boy.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.