Hiding scars on your perfectly shattered face Eyes half-closed - you don't want to see Paint the red lines, ones that draw you Dust has settled, filled the cracks beneath
All colours bleed into each other Your sad eyes, your cracked skin These things age has done to you
Broken vessels whiskey has left behind Cracked lips from weathering the storm Soothing, smoothing, things you've done wrong Broad strokes will hide the things you mourn
And now the piercings bleed From disuse and misuse and You can recreate them It's just a little pain
A broken, painted doll lies on the floor Not ready to face them Dreading the knock upon the door The final curtainTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.