Tonight I am a sea of sickness
Like a smashed open tennis ball
You can’t fill a hole with another hole
Just hold me.
The woman to my left is painting her lips
As the traffic light is changing
Strange how we whirl around possessed
Until there is nothing left.
Like a smashed open tennis ball
You can’t fill a hole with another hole
Just hold me.
The woman to my left is painting her lips
As the traffic light is changing
Strange how we whirl around possessed
Until there is nothing left.
No comments:
Post a Comment