four eyes won't fly among floating lies
too many mines for the wings of our crimes
guess we'll fall, hitting bombs, clumsily unfolding this ageless song
what do we find among the ashes of convenience store matches? a fading scent from the fires of friction
just more litter on the floor, and whats more, another reminder of the creatures we abhor.
too many mines for the wings of our crimes
guess we'll fall, hitting bombs, clumsily unfolding this ageless song
what do we find among the ashes of convenience store matches? a fading scent from the fires of friction
just more litter on the floor, and whats more, another reminder of the creatures we abhor.
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