All these memories of me now
Like a whisper to a scream A bed of nails on sharpened silver spikes cuts me like
a memory A wounded smile that always makes me laugh
a photograph The limelight dimming on a dead end street
to the beat And I know when the day is gone
the darkness breaks the dawn
I beg for more A song they played so long ago
I heard it on
the radio A dream of molten liquid breeze
wakes me from
a memory Blue lines slashed on bloodshot
hazel eyes
it’s no surprise It creeps back slowly coming in degrees
a memory And night turns to another day
as it fades to grey
just like before And I hear that sound again
I can remember when
it played before.
האתר פועל ברישיון אקו"ם
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