How faces change like the seasons, and how I miss your spring.
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I tried to sleep through winter, but dead roses still have thorns.
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Up in flames you seemed to go, killed the love we'd yet to grow.
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You looked so good as you turned away.
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I never quite believed it until I saw you pull your eyes out.
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I watched you burn, and everytime I think about you, a piece of me dies with you.
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Throw the switch on my tired soul.
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What was pure has turned to stone.
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Throw the switch.
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A Funeral For Dead Roses
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| Bloodlined Calligraphy |
