Wretched faces. This is nothing new to me, but still, enraptured. Don't keep grabbing the wind.
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This is a loaded gun, this is a loaded question. When can you stop? When is perfection? Maybe I'm already the one out.
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Consolidate all your fears. I can't take this, nothing sacred. This is of course as told from the knife.
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You painted your eyes to make them wide again. I tip my hat to the great, to the classics. This is not my face, this is this weeks fear.
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This is not my voice. They tell you to speak: the hesitation. This is not my fate. They can't take it away.
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This is not mine anymore. Take hold, bring it all back down to the first love. This is not my fate. All in vain.
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The Earth
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| The Chariot |
