Pieces of shadowing, they left a hole where your heart should have been,
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Breathless and smothering, I told you where it were, you told me that you lived here alone.
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Blessed with your face in my hands,
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What nearly suffers keeps alone,
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Innocent when we begin,
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Worked down our fear.
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Why won¡¯t you listen? What makes this feel so surreal,
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And what can¡¯t I stay away?
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Roasty, roasty children,
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But you will never be.
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This is a miracle, my faults aside,
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You take a miracle and toss it down for you,
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Now wonder what you done.
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Anyone can say that you¡¯re undead by your call.
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Both my feet in your hands,
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Why can¡¯t I breathe?
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Why won¡¯t you listen? What makes this feel so surreal,
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And what can¡¯t I stay away?
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Roasty, roasty children,
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But you will never be.
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You said whatever was before,
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Whatever stopped you alone,
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And we¡¯re walking when we¡¯re wounded.
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And we are wounded.
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Why won¡¯t you listen? What makes this feel so surreal,
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And what can¡¯t I stay away?
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Roasty, roasty children,
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But you will never be.
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You said whatever was before,
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Whatever stopped you alone
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And you said whatever was before
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Whatever stopped you alone.
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Dead alone.
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-----------------
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Listen
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| Parabelle |
