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This once, this once, this once.. |
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Are you going to run from here? |
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I'm dying to know if she died to me. |
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Take it back now. |
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Are you going to run from here? |
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I'm dying to know if she died to me. |
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She is not that strange. |
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She says goodbye some day. |
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My black coffee fantasy never seems to bother me. |
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In my mind |
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I'm hoping |
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I'll betray the sinners dance and fade away. |
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I'll fade away. |
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This once. |
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Dying, (My godess and my gods) |
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And the blood taste was red. |
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Are you going to run from here? |
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I'm dying to know if she died to me. |
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Take it back now. |
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Are you going to run from time? |
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And die to me? |
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Change is not that strange. |
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She says goodbye some day. |
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My black coffee fantasy never seemed to bother me. |
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In my mind |
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I'm hoping |
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I'll betray, |
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The sinners dance and fade away. |
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I'll fade away. |
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Press the story of stories praised, |
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Of love and women up above, |
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Layer this guilt that fits like a glove, |
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I say it before you heated and tickle, |
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Press the story of stories, |
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Paint with love, |
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The woman up above lets me wear this guilt, |
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That fits like a glove. |
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I can see on my own now. |
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Breath in the culture, |
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And I will take what's mine. |
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And I will try to stay mundade.. |
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Pretending it hurts you, |
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I will take what's mine, |
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And I will try to stay mundane. |
