All i taste is what's her name
From autumn to ashes
The tears suspend.
Smiles are not more than (empty love)
Locked doors can keep you alone
Forever paint words (from your lips) in a house that's no longer your home
Take the dreams I know (as my own) and it worsens weekends
Thanks again for my misery. And you run with fake friends
I'm sick of your sad songs and sing alongs.
I kind of like it when things are wrong.
Straight from left end,
They'll shout corrections,
And I'll decline, I'll decline
A source of comfort or some protection
And I'll decline
Smiles are not more than (empty love)
Locked doors can keep you alone
Forever paint words (from your lips) in a house that's no longer your home
Take the dreams I know (as my own) and it worsens weekends
Thanks again for my misery. And you run with fake friends
I'm sick of your sad songs and sing alongs.
I kind of like it when things are wrong.
Straight from left end,
They'll shout corrections,
And I'll decline, I'll decline
A source of comfort or some protection
And I'll decline
In your throat
You will see
Surface relocated
Therapy.
All I taste of today
Is the shame (of) my whore prety
All I know are apologies
Do you feel the shame?
Smiles are not more than (empty love)
Locked doors can keep you alone
Forever paint words (from your lips) in a house that's no longer your home
Take the dreams I know (as my own) and it worsens weekends
Thanks again for my misery. And you run with fake friends
I'm sick of your sad songs and sing alongs.
I kind of like it when things are wrong.
Straight from left end,
They'll shout corrections,
And I'll decline, I'll decline
A source of comfort or some protection
And I'll decline
Smiles are not more than (empty love)
Locked doors can keep you alone
Forever paint words (from your lips) in a house that's no longer your home
Take the dreams I know (as my own) and it worsens weekends
Thanks again for my misery. And you run with fake friends
I'm sick of your sad songs and sing alongs.
I kind of like it when things are wrong.
Straight from left end,
They'll shout corrections,
And I'll decline, I'll decline
A source of comfort or some protection
And I'll decline
In your throat
You will see
Surface relocated
Therapy.
All I taste of today
Is the shame (of) my whore prety
All I know are apologies
Do you feel the shame?
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Mais ouvidas de From autumn to ashes
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