This question is cruel We starved A door kissed, rotting away With children blue like stars Or small knives dulling with age Spitting on the empty features of one bought That I refuse to thank now
Try to make that face now I've had enough
Vacancies cry out As ills tend to now Broken thumbs by count One by one in rounds
Brief like beauty carved Then salt tears Wash it away And children blue like stars Or small knives dulling with age I keep gleaming in this empty ceiling That I abused with shame And that I refuse to blame now
Try to make that face now I've had enough
Vacancies cry out As ills tend to now Broken thumbs by count One by one in roundsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
