Those are pretty words
From someone not hurt before.
My heart had turned sour,
Broken hearts occurred.
How can I let myself trust
again, if I feel I must,
When love has done nothing but rust
away my feelings of lust?
You stand before me a blank.
Glass made of sand.
Clearly you come again
asking for my hand.
Those are some pretty words
Coming from someone not hurt before.
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
Those are pretty words
From someone not hurt before.
My heart had turned sour,
Broken hearts occurred.
How can I let myself trust
again, if I feel I must,
When love has done nothing but rust
away my feelings of lust?
You stand before me a blank.
Glass made of sand.
Clearly you come again
asking for my hand.
Those are some pretty words
Coming from someone not hurt before.
