asklepiades (asklepiades) wrote,

  • Mood:
  • Music:

Cut My Wrists and Black My Eyes

Follow you home, you've got your headphones on and you're dancing
Got lucky, beautiful shot you're taking everything off
Watch the curtains wide open
Then you fall in the same routine
flicking through the TV relaxed and reclining
And you think you're alone...

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    The quiet lies - we don't need to talk about it anymore Don't need to figure out the truth Don't need to look inside our heads and in our hearts…

  • (no subject)

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    Everytime someone died. color and breath, the fast unfurl of carbon away from death plants that rise and grow, strange citybomb beneath…

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