My wings have fallen, my wings have burned...
my wings have fallen, my wings have burned. and the city has eyes, and the buildings migrate like sheep. the streets are lonely, the people.... confused. I sit in the diners and coffee shops, watching the people converse.......... like trees. as the leaves slowly change color, and my cigerette burns. I walk amongst this forest as the trees disperse.
and my mechanical hearts mechanical, and my legs hurt. and the ghosts seem to mumble to each other in broken verse. as my eyes water, but my soul burns.
No comments:
Post a Comment