What was left when that fire was gone.
I thought it felt right, but that right was wrong.
All caught up in the eye of the storm.
And trying to figure out what it's like moving on.
And I don't even know what kind of things I said.
My mouth kept moving and my mind went dead.
So I'm picking up the pieces, now where to begin,
The hardest part of ending is starting again.
domingo, 20 de noviembre de 2011
Sheeps
If I could trade mistakes for sheep Count me awake before you sleep I'll stay awake til I dream my mistakes so they fade away
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario