Of a countless ways this could have gone... Of a thousand paths we should have run... How was it decided that we may end on thorns and empty words? Who is in charge here and who could have chosen the right amongst these ways?
Your serpents tongue spits bile for miles and miles...(but) Somewhere along the way you showed me something beautiful HERE WE ARE, standing on the edge of a great divide Would it be an indecent gesture if I pushed you down? Would it be an imprecise measurement if I assumed that you might fly... ...and never touch the ground? What is left to fear...(?)...except the fear itself...
Enlightened in light and bound by the prospect of a thousand lies We should have held just one to prove that your serpents tongue spits bile for miles and miles.
Somewhere along the way you showed me something beautiful HERE WE ARE, standing on the edge of a great divide. Would it be an indecent gesture if I pushed you down? Would it be an imprecise measurement if I assumed that you might fly... ...and never touch the ground?
I CAN TASTE THE VENOM ON YOUR SKIN SEARING THE FLESH, BURNING THE SKIN BEAUTIFUL??? I'LL SHOW YOU SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL!!! YOU SPIT BILE FOR MILES AND MILES YOUR SERPENTINE TONGUE HAS DRAGGED YOU THROUGH THE MIRE I CAN SEE THE VENOM DRIPPING FROM YOUR CHIN! SEARING THE FLESH, SEARING FROM WITHIN IT SPITS BILE FOR MILES AND MILES! ...and miles ...and miles