Your stroke paints the blood in my cheek
And your soul is what makes it real
Illuminated by the pangs of idealism
We share this burden's parallelism
But our youthful expenses
Are priceless and uncharted
By the most daring
So let me show you
The way to the bay
To open entries
Of foreign milieus today
Look into my eyes
Under your hair
You're already there
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 10:28 AM UTC
Your stroke paints the blood in my cheek
And your soul is what makes it real
Illuminated by the pangs of idealism
We share this burden's parallelism
But our youthful expenses
Are priceless and uncharted
By the most daring
So let me show you
The way to the bay
To open entries
Of foreign milieus today
Look into my eyes
Under your hair
You're already there