This place Ive never seen before Goes by the name of cruelty Thunder cracks among black clouds And the rain reminds me of tears of beauty. You cruel teaser, from foolishness Ill suffer Just me alone, my kind of last... supper. When no one is here to hear When no one is here to share No one is here to hear me No one is here to share My thoughts, my dreams I did hide outside of my sleep. Walking on road in thickening night Where left hands path is right for feeble minded! The sky keeps bleeding above me While your spit is like the flower on the tomb in me... Your spit, as a flower on the tomb in me. Running on road in thickening night where lefthand path Is right for feeble minded, truly blinded and, naive. The sky keeps bleeding above me While your spit, is like the flower on the tomb in me... Your spit as a flower on the tomb in me... The story goes on and on Ill keep on begging for more and more This is the way the story writes itself What should I do with this Would you please tell me What should I do when story is writing...itself? The sky keeps bleeding above me While your spit, is like the flower on the tomb in me... Your spit as a flower on the tomb in me The sky keeps bleeding above me While your spit, is like the flower on the tomb in me... Your spit as a flower on the tomb in me...
spit, tomb, flower, bleeding, thickening