Describe to me a mountain, and how it makes you feel, What do you think about insanity, do you think the devils real? Speak to
We live in pictures Painted on vases Sold in the garden. If the painter likes you, you’re painted once more, Given another facet of
Fondle the strings of my violin and touch my sadness. Make sounds beautiful from my dusty piano keys. Get on my guitar and rage sinful.
Why are you sucking the blood from my veins? No matter though, still flesh remains. Then why would you choose to chew on my soul?
Sewn shut his eyelids are lost in bloody tears, He won’t open his eyes despite of the lies, he’s recognized for years, Comfortable in the