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Just a dawning of a new day, |
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Morning through his stained sheets. |
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Someone lies in a poster, |
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Oh, he shows no repentance. |
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Skinny boy undercover, |
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Caught in his finer years. |
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Slit of light shines his fingers, |
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Takes in view his lonely mouth. |
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A glimpse of joy, |
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From the small things of his life, |
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Waiting to succumb another day. |
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A pill of bliss, |
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A trail of sun between their harms, |
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Standin' here for my last photograph. |
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In the deafness of his silence, |
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Dust moves in a empty space, its secret is safe, |
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He heals the wounds to make they cry again. |
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Looking the hole in the grey floor, |
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He licks his wounds secretly. |
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He used to lose all ambitions, |
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Floating through the waves of past. |
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Pictures clothes, memories that hold him far away, |
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Not a sunday comes in sorrow, |
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Failure makes a common day. |
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Who has no grace |
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Loves the small things of his life, |
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There's no world but this one today. |
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With tired eyes |
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We have passed through this night, |
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Standin' here for our last photograph. |
