~ The Hanged Man ~ Put your arms around my neck just like a pathetic lace of death displays like a tarot deck I am the card of the hanged man and here I stand with a flame on my hand do you understand?
If there is hope for me she is flirting with the breeze on a peculiar choreography with the dead arms of some old southern tree
silently, lips sealed against me silently, wanna walk with me?
And it makes you wanna know if in all the stories the truth is really told
And it makes you wanna reborn and like a snake crawl every warm season Into a different form
When you can still kill me, when you can still cure me. Cure me.
Put your lace around my face just like a fairytale through the blank of my closed eyes you can foresee the rope within
And it makes you wanna know how deep have you truly flown
And it makes you wanna ride through the fake suicide of someone already dead inside
Still you walk with me, silently
and it makes you wanna disclaim something you had really never learnt
and it makes you wanna stay forever tangled in the pale arms of some hanged man
Here I stand. To understand. Violently. I have you with me.