bicycle
Well-known member
Crosses
How the wild flickering shadows are dancing a cold orange dance on my wall.
The lights are off, this way I can see better, with my eyes closed.
I can smell the cold. I inhale it, and welcome it into my body.
A hollow heart filled with love, it is flowing over, and it eats my soul.
Whispering... NO, screaming with my mouth shut tight.
Desire of burning it away, resisting harmful fire.
Do not stick your hand into the flame. Do not stick your hand into my burning heart.
For it will tear it apart, until there is nothing left.
All paint scratched away, screeching sounds of metal and ringing bells.
Can you hear the wind? It blows fierce upon these plains.
Those old stones, forgotten loves, and missed chances.
A graveyard of dreams, filled with wooden crosses for those unanswered cries.
How the wild flickering shadows are dancing a cold orange dance on my wall.
The lights are off, this way I can see better, with my eyes closed.
I can smell the cold. I inhale it, and welcome it into my body.
A hollow heart filled with love, it is flowing over, and it eats my soul.
Whispering... NO, screaming with my mouth shut tight.
Desire of burning it away, resisting harmful fire.
Do not stick your hand into the flame. Do not stick your hand into my burning heart.
For it will tear it apart, until there is nothing left.
All paint scratched away, screeching sounds of metal and ringing bells.
Can you hear the wind? It blows fierce upon these plains.
Those old stones, forgotten loves, and missed chances.
A graveyard of dreams, filled with wooden crosses for those unanswered cries.
