The Cut Deepens
We transmit, dont speak in the tongues heathen,
Lungs bleed the essence of sleep as the cut deepens.
Gatecrashing your dreams in a blood sequence,
You wake with your face a vision of stunned grievance.
дядь Миша
:)
make love not war
make love not war
We transmit, dont speak in the tongues heathen,
Lungs bleed the essence of sleep as the cut deepens.
Gatecrashing your dreams in a blood sequence,
You wake with your face a vision of stunned grievance.
дядь Миша
:)