Sing about that oh love it's a brittle madness, I sing about it in all my sadness
Not falsified to say that I found God so Inevitably well it still exists.
Pale and fine I can't dismiss
And I won't resist and if I die well, at least I tried
And we just lay awake in lust and rust in the rain
And pore over everything we say we trust
Well it happened again, I listened in through hallways and thin doors
Where the rivers unwind, rust and the rain endure.
The rust and the rain so thin
Well I'm in like Flynn again
No comments:
Post a Comment