My Life is like a wound, I scratch so I can bleed Regurgitate my words, I write so I can feed And death grows like a tree, that's planted in my chest It's are at my feet, I walk so it won't rest
Oh baby, I am lost.
I try to push the colors through a prism abck to white To sync our different pulses into a blinding light And if love is not the key. If love is not a key I hope that I can find a place where it can be
I know that in your heart there is an answer to a question Which I'm not as yet aware that I have asked And if that tree had not drunk my tears I would have bled and cried for all the years, that I alone have let them pass