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Marionettes
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Clair De Lune
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kiss the pain that fate passed around. this kind hollows the inside. just as it were another day of later age. you can't see through the windows. more like the shape of hate in your head. passed in the handshake. a truth upon the tongue has placed a face. upon the faults we call hopeless idiot. cause the pattern reverberates. out of care i fear the worst. this pause will trap us both in three words. let the patterns hide their face. at your worst i seem to care. this pause will trap us both in three words. bleed away the rust you housed and shaped in your synthetic heart. of shades that mixed the blood that carries thoughts of your town. burning down in spite of all the love you fail to dodge. lets box and burn just like a wish we would've answered or seen through
Debussy: Clair de lune | Menahem Pressle...
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