I think my love might be alive. Birthed in my loneliness, nurtured by you, lured into the fire, aged with a fool's hope, dressed in black, hungry for pain, looking for more, lived enough, waiting to die.
I think my love might be alive. Birthed in my loneliness, nurtured by you, lured into the fire, aged with a fool's hope, dressed in black, hungry for pain, looking for more, lived enough, waiting to die.
