Throne Of The Beheaded - My Last Breath For Her Unforgiving Wish | Текст песни

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• Throne Of The Beheaded
• My Last Breath For Her Unforgiving Wish

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I’m writing you this letter.
The words that don’t make sense.
This jar of ink that stains the blade that held us all together.
I hope that you receive this.
I hope it makes you smile.
Because I’m sick to my stomach while the clock strikes ten.

Maybe it’s me.
Maybe it’s you.
Maybe I’m just so plagued.
All these words.
That we spoke.
Another night, where life’s a joke.
Maybe it’s me.
Maybe it’s you.
But I feel fine.

I will never ever go back to what I was.
Ten thousand feet below my own fucking ground.

Two separate beings that won’t ever be saved.
Two humans that are fucked in the brain. (x2)