The heart it leaves is broken and cracked
All that remains can't get itself it back
In the withering hours of the starless night
The tattered bits work hard to make themselves right
As the dark and cold winds blow across those feverish dreams
Pieces slowly get sewn but it's less effective than it seems
The air holds a certain mystique hidden under a scary mask
With feelings of pain and envy, and questions too difficult to ask
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 9:36 AM UTC
The heart it leaves is broken and cracked
All that remains can't get itself it back
In the withering hours of the starless night
The tattered bits work hard to make themselves right
As the dark and cold winds blow across those feverish dreams
Pieces slowly get sewn but it's less effective than it seems
The air holds a certain mystique hidden under a scary mask
With feelings of pain and envy, and questions too difficult to ask
