Woorden: Fydolla Ho. Other. Pieces.

Pieces of The memory of love
Are scurrying around
Trying to lose
What they have found
As they do
I'm scurrying to you
But you don't look the same
Since I woke up today

I've got a train
Pulling pieces of
Glass menagerie
In my sleep
I fell out
Now I don't feel
A fucking thing

Romantic lines
Empty me inside
Slipping out my belly button
Leaving me nothing
Of something

I've got a train
Pulling pieces of
Glass menagerie
In my sleep
I fell out
Now I don't feel
A fucking thing