I was more than just a coward I was handsome too I felt nothing when your flood came down holding fines that made me wonder if the lights were wrong with my hands that never touched no ground when your talent is in numbers of the many times you’re gone I could lie I don’t care about forgiving but sometimes it’s just roses dying too young As I’m fencing up the hours in the fields of red while you think I’m on a loveless straight in the letters from the lovers in a land gone wrong explanations always written late when your talent curse the framing of the crying you heard sung I could lie I don’t care about what’s missing but sometimes it’s just roses dying too young your train of thoughts is always passing here with its falling paint, and its broken gears it’s the damn revelation blues when you see the path and you know you won’t be the last, oh lord… I was more than just a terror I was crying too but you showed me in the gusts between that a wind is sometimes broken and its flying path has no meaning nor a ghost within when your talent is in hiding that your feeling is always wrong I always want to bring you something but sometimes it’s just roses dying too young.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
