(no subject)
Well the clock's heart it hangs inside its open
chest with its hands stretched towards
the calendar hanging itself but
I will not weep for those dying days.
For all the ones who have left
there are a few that stayed.
And they found me here
and pulled me from the grass where I was laid.
chest with its hands stretched towards
the calendar hanging itself but
I will not weep for those dying days.
For all the ones who have left
there are a few that stayed.
And they found me here
and pulled me from the grass where I was laid.