The tempest in my heart, could tear my life apart. Would it even make a mark on you?
Tributes that I read, would suggest you were dead - maybe you knew this too. You throw at me, stones, my brittle sticks are bones, I should've taught myself before you. You tear it apart, the ash like structure of my chambers, blood-dried by the energy spent, raising you from the dead.
Warm Front (Audio)...
The tides within push limits, shifting bits. Do you even see it?
I hear you melody, it lets me know I'm alive - maybe you dreamt of this too. You throw at me, words, stronger than swords, I learnt the way to my depth from you. You rip it up, as we start again, the tap turned, the red pouring, our bodies stained. Not from the seas game but the sun is in the sky, makes for a happy ending.
Untitled, Uncredited 2007
2 Comments:
Cold Front (Television)...
The tempest in my heart, could tear my life apart. Would it even make a mark on you?
Tributes that I read, would suggest you were dead - maybe you knew this too. You throw at me, stones, my brittle sticks are bones, I should've taught myself before you. You tear it apart, the ash like structure of my chambers, blood-dried by the energy spent, raising you from the dead.
Warm Front (Audio)...
The tides within push limits, shifting bits. Do you even see it?
I hear you melody, it lets me know I'm alive - maybe you dreamt of this too. You throw at me, words, stronger than swords, I learnt the way to my depth from you. You rip it up, as we start again, the tap turned, the red pouring, our bodies stained. Not from the seas game but the sun is in the sky, makes for a happy ending.
I've heard, it hurts... - Kubichek! / Outwards
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