I feel the rain fall down my back. I'm going back to my place of work. To get things done, to get them right. But I'll mess them up and I always do. .
i feel the rain fall. down my back. i'm going back. to my place of work. to get things done. to get them right. but i'll mess them up. and i always do.
A winter's day in a deep and dark December. I am alone gazing from my window. To the streets below. On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow. . I am a rock, I am an island.
Helicopter falls to my calm virgin island. It said, "I want to show you new clouds and new sky. From shore to sun we'll soar like one. Brave martyr pilot.
i can't believe all the good things that you do for me. sat back in a chair. like a princess from a faraway place. nobody's nice. when you're older your heart turns to ice.
I can't let you be, 'cause your beauty won't allow me. Wrapped in white sheets, like an angel from a bedtime story. Shut out what they say 'Cause your friends are fucked up anyway.
A rare and blistering sun shines down on grace Cathedral Park. There with you I fear the time, when air gets dark. You know I don't spend days like this.
Sister woke me up as he fell out of the sky. There's a golden place. Where the angels crash and die. You can jab and poke. . But what did you ever give?.
Weight has fallen on me. Like a part of the sky. And life's hell getting up off the floor. . Raise the blind and let the day shine in. Out with this gray into air.
Stay with me, my love. I hope you'll always be. Right here by my side. If ever I need you. . Oh my love, in your arms. I feel so safe and so secure. Everyday is such a perfect day to spend.
Meet me in Leon near Mexico City. Where I remember you clear. Meet me at night, St. Louis, Missouri. Where I first saw you. . There is a scent that linger around me.
Sad reminders of what seems years ago. Warm southern sun shines through. Station wagon windows like solar energy. And when in the night your brother turned to me.
So much that I can't say to you. My voice shakes from the hurt that I hide. Ashamed of my existence. And of my petty often wounded pride. . I'd like to come home to see you.
This is the first you spoke of it. In your black magic house in a cold damp attic. Two windows stare at us like eyes. Behind them December's dark early morning sky.
I walked down the hill, sluggishly and frail. The wind blew hard, hard on me. I imagined it your ghost white body. Making love with me. . I walked down the hill.
Out of the box, down colorful hill. Out of the box, down colorful hill. . Winds lifting tired feet, skin sensing challenge ahead. Winds lifting tired feet, skin sensing challenge ahead.
My biggest smile from Tokyo. You came out here five years ago. Her life song is a sad one. Her mom fell off when she was young. Her mom died off when she was young.
My baby sleeps in blue. Warm and naked, pale and pretty. I feel the seventh wave. Of the ocean in the motion. . I feel a brand new sickness. Coming over me like a storm.
I know I don't know you. I know that we don't think along the same lines. But what do I do when I can't reach out. Through this iron built bubble of pain.
Tell me and take your time. Set free this soul of mine. Freeze frame this sedate moment. Lie me in your quiet ground. . I understand your tired eyes. For these tired homes and tired trees.