Woorden: Kind Of Like Spitting. Bridges Worth Burning. Following Days.

Let the following days always remind us of the presence we face constantly dazed, let the following nights uniformly teach and conform, bless and keep us warm until we're finally safe and together. Oh how repressed are our exchanges, I see your hands full, I watch you grow old, how many smiles have you been faking, from what I'm told you'd like to see a coffin fold, there is no sympathy, so these are useless love letters. The house is filled with smoke and light, hallowed wings and blacked out eyes, the scene goes frame by frame. Until we finally focus on the few details we have left but failed to use we will remember what we choose, let the following days always remind us of the presence we face constantly dazed