If I had to sum you up in a couple of words, I would not be able to Where the feelings stem, is far beyond dialect, it's somewhat beautiful Far too many thoughts clashing, till there is not one, every time I act surprised With my eyes is not the only way I'm seeing you, cut the mountain I would still have you in my view
You are etched into my skull til the vultures come, and gather up my bones, and fly south for the winter You are etched into my soul til the vultures come, and gather up my bones, and fly south for the winter