No matter what I do, I can't get clean of you.
Yea, you carried in the rope, hanging like fruit that dying hope.
Drifting through flowers crushed by soul less feet.
Keeping desire close to the mud, afar from the heart.
Lying wetly next to her in Estancia.
Take me higher, higher, tighter as I come down,
From the addiction of you.
It's down to me and the dead one.
Deadened like the steel in her heart.
I walk through the fire, singeing and meat falling off.
Alone and forever forgotten. I burn alone.
The visions don't stop, the loving don't end.
The effigy brings nothing, but more.
copyright 2015 salvador cordova
No comments:
Post a Comment