Your cage is painted picket fence white and from your knees it seems like heavens gates it shines likes the sun when you pray for this cover the walls of the close lover, this illusion is forever but you know better on these blindfolded endeavours in your silence to decide for whether you can accept this idealistic cover this illusion is forever
what a perfect place you found trophies of gold surround to commemorate the past the burden lifted and you feel you’ve arrived at last and your cage is painted picket fence white and from your knees it seems like heavens gates shines likes the sun that your hands are praying that your hands are praying this illusion is forever