Jan 27, 2005 12:22
Come down from the heavens, oh desolate angel.
Strike me with the power of snapping piano wires.
And when liars start coming clean I'll tell them who I am.
Or maybe I'll pack up my things, the remaining strings.
Move out west where everything seems to settle, plant into the ground, and stay.
Promise me a new life and I will come.
Save me from the everyday daily grind of this old factory town.
Eyes closing, frozen.
Burn the churches and the buildings all to the ground.
They won't mind, their creators will.
They won't mind, their ashes stand still.
And I'm willing to say that every day I feel the distance between you and I get no shorter, do you concur?
And everything blurs and nothing occurs, do you concur? Do you concur?
And they stay how they were and they stay such a blur, do you concur?
I concur.
My hands have finally reached the violin.
Listen, I'm willing to burn it all down if your lips will be the flame.
Accurately named my angel. My angel named Accurately. Our enemy named Distance and Limitation. Oh desolate angel.