see me a snapshot
|
narrating my previous life
|
and a mountain of other lies
|
numbers and letters and letters
|
surfacing from a sea of
|
treacle blackened stone(?)
|
and carrying me back home
|
i hear the language of flowers
|
and now i don't hear anything else
|
|
|
voices from nowhere seducing me
|
to all the lyrics(?) of the world
|
the balance has been disturbed
|
time stumbles drunkenly
|
wild lives are frozen(?)
|
until they're born again
|
ripening in the sun
|
i hear the language of flowers
|
and now i don't hear anything else
|
|
|
i wasn't cut out for this
|
but my heart was(?)
|
i wasn't cut out for this
|
|
-----------------
|
Language Of Flowers
|
| Pale Saints |
