She’s panic buying,
Walking down the aisle that she feels identified in
It’s number seven,
Where the colour smears into photographs of heaven
Walking down the aisle that she feels identified in
It’s number seven,
Where the colour smears into photographs of heaven
Don’t raise your voice if you’re talking to me
We’re only temporary
She plays the numbers,
Seconds hiss away until a day is just a flicker
Her goddess slumbers,
Waiting in her dream until the memory is quicker
Don’t raise your hands it’s easy can’t you see
We’re only temporary
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Secrets Nobody Keeps
Hypertension