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I can't believe it, you of all things |
|
It's been a while; memories deem some kind of anthem |
|
Lingering, images settle internally |
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Ribbons and detours meant nothing to me |
|
Swaying our sentiments, pulling our strings |
|
Tempting me softly, but killing our dream |
|
You said it's over but maybe... |
|
It's the same old thing |
|
I can't believe it, you of all things |
|
Coming in homage, devious needs |
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Intimate outlies, weakening |
|
Tranquilize slowly, inside of me |
|
Ribbons and detours meant nothing to me |
|
Swaying our sentiments, pulling our strings |
|
Tempting me softly, but killing our dream |
|
You said it's over but maybe... |
|
It's the same old thing |
|
I gave the softest parts, trumped by the darkest parts |
|
Whispered the tender parts, made of idealistic scenes |
|
Ribbons and detours meant nothing to me |
|
Swaying our sentiments, pulling our strings |
|
Tempting me softly, but killing our dream |
|
You said it's over but maybe... |
|
It's the same old thing |
|
It's the same old thing |
|
It's the same old thing |
|
It's the same old thing |
