Masque

Halfroom

Masque
Pets of nightfall, fed enough
Longing flings to say hello
Running fast in spiral dances
Mocking bed-clothes try to burn
The air gets filled with damp
When telling lies of health devices
Burning it with glitter
Of thin and nervous eyes
The fall of something clear
And shining through the air
Hit his shoe and headed for the womb
Growing wet and rolling
Leaving salt lines in the skin
Waiting in the halfroom
My mouth smells bad
I'm saying nothing
Gasps of pets will speak of me
Among other stranger things
While one by one and very silent
The small and far-away people
Go dark and out of reach
I swear that I can't tell
If I am happier by now
Spiteful hours till times are done
Unease will drag your bones to sleep
Lower yourself till times are none
You will always be beloved
Encontrou algum erro na letra? Por favor envie uma correção clicando aqui!