She’s looking at me yearning
Yearning to take my time
I can’t stop hurting
Pain pours from my eyes

I’m weak for her, I’m on my knees
I’m Lucifer, she’s an angel, see?
My skin is hazel, green
I’m dead, I can’t be seen
Her love’s a drug to me
I’m a ******, I’m unclean

She pushes me away
And we both weep
Pretend that we’re okay
What I sow, I reap
For her I’ll always wait

Selling the rose she keeps
For a price far too cheap
I need her to know
I would spend my life
The truth’s in my eyes
I don’t need sweet lies
From the past I cut ties
See my heart, no disguise

Does art imitate life?
Or does life imitate art?
Can she see through the strife?
Can she heal my broken heart?

cold winters are warming
they wake you up to reality
of fighting the demons,
chasing the tides,
counting your wishes,
and being alive.

each year I break,
in two, in three,
in four.

drowning and wondering
about so much more.

cold winters are waking me up
like someone sitting on my chest
it's too warm and crimson

im not ready yet.