28 lines
739 B
Plaintext
28 lines
739 B
Plaintext
|
the voices carry still
|
||
|
|
across these dull great plains
|
||
|
|
growing louder everyday
|
||
|
|
sinking back to habits dying hard
|
||
|
|
your arms are so familiar
|
||
|
|
these wounds that time won't heal
|
||
|
|
fester with hate so pick the scab
|
||
|
|
and turn the page
|
||
|
|
until the lion lears to write,
|
||
|
|
the hunter will be glorified
|
||
|
|
flip the switch
|
||
|
|
and here I sit on the outside
|
||
|
|
eight dollar haircut (fuck you)
|
||
|
|
these words are my leash
|
||
|
|
that I cannot untie
|
||
|
|
dragging meinto this night
|
||
|
|
cover my ears, but still you call my name
|
||
|
|
I will follow you (deeper into this night)
|
||
|
|
dim the lights and tighten this noose
|
||
|
|
I've lost myself in you
|
||
|
|
I won't settle for anything less
|
||
|
|
not one if us immune
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
_____________________
|
||
|
|
Name Prelude to Pain
|
||
|
|
Artist The Killing Tree
|
||
|
|
Album The Romance of Helen Trent
|