| This feels like I’m the loosed heart
|
| You’re brushing off your brand new sleeve
|
| Heartless, inclined
|
| To be patient while i work out
|
| How to work you
|
| With these average grade hands
|
| Controlled by imperfect
|
| Needs and thoughts
|
| Tied up in knots
|
| With you close legs in your plain white linen
|
| Like snakes in the garden hidden
|
| The words fall from my lips
|
| And gather in clouds around your head weighing like lead
|
| The message reads like your first school bible
|
| Meaningless, dull, verse and quip, hollow dark tricks
|
| On this night
|
| With the concrete cracking from this dead sick cold
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| My face grows old
|
| Tracing adjectives and nouns that I misplaced
|
| With this average-sized mind
|
| Filled up with imperfect needs and thoughts tied up in knots
|
| With existential questions of my vocal rehearsals
|
| I always remember the curse words
|
| The words fall from my lips
|
| And gather in clouds around your head weighing like lead
|
| The message reads like your first school bible
|
| Meaningless, dull, verse and quip, hollow dark tricks
|
| The words fall from my lips
|
| And gather in clouds around your head weighing like lead
|
| The message reads like your first school bible
|
| Meaningless, dull, verse and quip, hollow dark tricks |