I lost my voice in the fire.
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I burned my eyes staring at your eclipse.
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I was just a child.
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My father's favorite,
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My father's favorite.
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Such delicate arms keep reaching toward the horizon.
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As we keep starving for this beauty,
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we are sick with distance.
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Starving for this beauty.
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We are sick with distance,
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Starving for this beauty.
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We are sick with distance.
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We are sick with distance.
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We are sick with distance.
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We are sick with distance.
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You keep me on my knees, waiting for, waiting for.
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You keep me on my knees mummified in your arms.
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You keep me on my knees, waiting for, begging for.
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This is the last chance that you will get to say my name into his chest.
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I lost my voice in the fire.
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I burned my eyes staring at your eclipse.
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I was just a child.
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My father's favorite.
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Such delicate arms keep reaching toward the horizon.
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Only the deaf find peace.
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Only the blind won't reach.
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Only the deaf find peace.
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Only the blind won't reach.
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-----------------
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Spitshine Sonata
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| The Bled |
