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Winter leaks inside my skin |
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Into the open womb, my open womb |
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The feeling is mean and full and red |
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No matter how hard I try it makes no sound |
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Summer breaks into my pores |
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Into these holes I once knew well |
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They once were strong |
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The matter is gone and non persistent |
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The more I try to feel the less realistic I become |
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All feelings I have for red are dead |
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Are dead, are dead and lonesome |
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All feelings I have for red are dead, |
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You're dead to me, to me, to me |
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Fall fears the likes of me |
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Even when the solar moon lets go of you |
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The feeling is mean and full of black |
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No matter how hard I try I can't look back |
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All feelings I have for red are dead |
|
Are dead, are dead and lonesome |
|
All feelings I have for red are dead, |
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You're dead to me, to me, to me |
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Walking on your grained path |
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Searching for your mind |
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Feeling once forgotten |
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Loving you has died |
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Spring kisses all my thoughts |
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These strands of memories invading us throughout life... |
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All feelings I have for red are dead |
|
Are dead, are dead and lonesome |
|
All feelings I have for red are dead, |
|
You're dead to me, to me, to me |
