Song | Halo of Flies |
Artist | Cave In |
Album | Until Your Heart Stops |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
Reality rose like the sun, and still I slept through it: | |
"I can always witness it another morning…" | |
The thoughts like these are cemented in procrastination | |
Now this part of 'she' is liquid form somewhere on the floor | |
As a self-defiant need for a cure | |
Diagnosed to emerge and roam away | |
From roads as thick as foam | |
You wish to burn the candles that quietly service the arm | |
Another day with the shades pulled down | |
Until the swallow returns her to sleep | |
A father knocks on the silent door | |
While this part of 'she' has become an inferno shame | |
Louder than we expect from such silent candles | |
Not so secret anymore | |
Now the eyes of my eyes have opened | |
Now the eyes of my ears cling dear | |
Never let the swallow return you back to sleep | |
The smell of wounds have left you bug-bitten here | |
And again I know reality shall rise tomorrow | |
This time I hope to be awake | |
For I cannot postpone another morning | |
Never let the swallow return you to sleep |
Reality rose like the sun, and still I slept through it: | |
" I can always witness it another morning" | |
The thoughts like these are cemented in procrastination | |
Now this part of ' she' is liquid form somewhere on the floor | |
As a selfdefiant need for a cure | |
Diagnosed to emerge and roam away | |
From roads as thick as foam | |
You wish to burn the candles that quietly service the arm | |
Another day with the shades pulled down | |
Until the swallow returns her to sleep | |
A father knocks on the silent door | |
While this part of ' she' has become an inferno shame | |
Louder than we expect from such silent candles | |
Not so secret anymore | |
Now the eyes of my eyes have opened | |
Now the eyes of my ears cling dear | |
Never let the swallow return you back to sleep | |
The smell of wounds have left you bugbitten here | |
And again I know reality shall rise tomorrow | |
This time I hope to be awake | |
For I cannot postpone another morning | |
Never let the swallow return you to sleep |
Reality rose like the sun, and still I slept through it: | |
" I can always witness it another morning" | |
The thoughts like these are cemented in procrastination | |
Now this part of ' she' is liquid form somewhere on the floor | |
As a selfdefiant need for a cure | |
Diagnosed to emerge and roam away | |
From roads as thick as foam | |
You wish to burn the candles that quietly service the arm | |
Another day with the shades pulled down | |
Until the swallow returns her to sleep | |
A father knocks on the silent door | |
While this part of ' she' has become an inferno shame | |
Louder than we expect from such silent candles | |
Not so secret anymore | |
Now the eyes of my eyes have opened | |
Now the eyes of my ears cling dear | |
Never let the swallow return you back to sleep | |
The smell of wounds have left you bugbitten here | |
And again I know reality shall rise tomorrow | |
This time I hope to be awake | |
For I cannot postpone another morning | |
Never let the swallow return you to sleep |