I fell down thirty feet of stairs,
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Landed in a hole buried under cloak.
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And as I grow I tried to let this go,
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But I cannot hide under half-shut eyes.
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And I feel it calling me again,
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In winter ice I stand.
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And I feel it calling me again,
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So what will it take
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To make this finally the end?
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Carving snow, I found myself a glove.
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So I took it home and my body, mind and soul.
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We're draped in robes like soft and flowing tones
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Through a combo and it's quarter cranked again
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And this time I follow my own lines.
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And I feel it calling me again,
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In winter ice I stand.
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I feel it calling me again,
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So what will it take
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To make this finally the end?
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It's the breaking point, the crossed out, the fine lines we hide, the lies
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Medicine, and crooked ties define why I'm not who you thought you liked
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It's the breaking point, the crossed out, the fine lines we hide, the lies
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Medicine, and crooked ties define why I'm not who you thought you liked
|
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It's the breaking point, the crossed out, the fine lines we hide, the lies
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Medicine, and crooked ties define why I'm not who you thought you liked
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-----------------
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Wearing A Tie
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| The Early November |
