Please love, just come home again. Just let this one pass, there will be another. And this after before the pain. Every deliberate hangs by my left hand. Those eyelids and this warm water floods my nostrils. Neck deep, i cry high. Together we sleep, slouched discolored porcelain. Dreaming of those elucid moments when smiles hang high. Limbs outsretchded, a bad moon rising. Faucet turning. Desolation churning. Drowning in what we've become. Neck deep, i cry high. I have spilled and you cannot fathom the notion, that it was the end of something. This is the end
|
Switch to Russian 
