sometimes in november
when the winds aren't so cold
pieces of grey days together
then do not so easily fall old

I can still sing if i will
strong enough to mend my words
what speaks of a broken heart
drowned in the waves of its hurt

her face ignites what was once dead
breathing life into the thin air

I've lost so many voices inside my head
that I see people standing everywhere

talking about what was and was is
her face rots; the thought makes me sick
entangled so deeply in the arms of his
the last kiss, must've been a fool to resist






by tomorrow if december
is not here
there will be blood in the air;
without the snow-flakes burning
there will be darkness everywhere

in that silver haze i will seek
all those memories
that did not leave
set on fire for their greed

gathering a storm
about to sleep