Got old before your lips went dry and I fel the breeze inside to caress
whats left the open fire.
The truth,
The trust,
The faith took part but cannot stay,
Still we felt cold,
Freezing flames of this funeral pyre,
Dead desire.
Built to brake down, made to wither away,
Come along too.
For the last time very little of me wants to surrender in brief war.
Despite the things Ive said the crush no longer care.
Beyond the smile I hate and the more I hate the more I think of you.
The more I think of you.
