Alone wasn't a word until the door was closed; each sound in this place
Spells your doom.
The soul has places to go, you know.
It's feverish to fill, to take the essence of "I" and scatter it every which way.
Once you fall, and you will fall:
O, then see how the soul works!
Your charm is a sea-gooseberry, your love seeps into the fog,
Your smile is now the Sun.
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 4:48 PM UTC
Alone wasn't a word until the door was closed; each sound in this place
Spells your doom.
The soul has places to go, you know.
It's feverish to fill, to take the essence of "I" and scatter it every which way.
Once you fall, and you will fall:
O, then see how the soul works!
Your charm is a sea-gooseberry, your love seeps into the fog,
Your smile is now the Sun.
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