He doesn't make your knee weak, he's beautiful and bleak. He has a porcelain face, that cracks when he speaks. I go to start a conversation but I, get no reply, and you stare just like a statue as I break down and cry.
Your face is like an eagle, but your mind is like a crow. and boy i know you have opinions, but you don't let them show. You're a shelf of books with out the pages, a wealth of thoughts locked up in cages.
So if blood runs through your veins, don't you suppose it's such a waste to be composed in such a way? Just let me in...
You write me letters in a pen with no ink. and you have your own eyes, but you don't dare blink. You speak in words, without a sentence. you're the ghost that haunts me, without a presence...
So if blood runs through your veins, don't you suppose it's such a waste to be composed in such a way? Just let me in... Just let me in...