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