on the deck of a wooden ship
inside of a glass bottle, you can see what's in
on the deck of a wooden vessel
smelling like ash, after all the burning
on the deck of a rock, floating in
smelling like death, millions buried under soil, rotting
on the bed of what-ifs, what could, should and would have been
you had millons faces, i mostly faced mean
on the deck of a new spark, less than love more than like
there must be an end to every tunnel, just hold on to your kite
laura - it's kind of like the innocent smiles you get at the start of a relationship before you fuck everything up
emr sag
Hiç yorum yok:
Yorum Gönder