I can’t believe it, you of all things It’s been a while; memories deem some kind of anthem Lingering, images settle internally
Ribbons and detours meant nothing to me Swaying our sentiments, pulling our strings Tempting me softly, but killing our dream You said it’s over but maybe... It’s the same old thing
I can’t believe it, you of all things Coming in homage, devious needs Intimate outlies, weakening Tranquilize slowly, inside of me
Ribbons and detours meant nothing to me Swaying our sentiments, pulling our strings Tempting me softly, but killing our dream You said it’s over but maybe... It’s the same old thing
I gave the softest parts, trumped by the darkest parts Whispered the tender parts, made of idealistic scenes
Ribbons and detours meant nothing to me Swaying our sentiments, pulling our strings Tempting me softly, but killing our dream You said it’s over but maybe... It’s the same old thing It’s the same old thing It’s the same old thing It’s the same old thing