Texty: Sunny Day Real Estate. Diary. The Blankets Were The Stairs.

lost myself when pain from your heart left it's trace
in written words held like a seam i have no hand to heal
i can't imagine your emotions wrapped around inferior
hold that iron.infereior my hand to heal your wounds won't
heal my longing for your warm embrace why can't it see
the thinking to me my sence of one is open time to run and
drink like astiocles so sideways inferior hold that
iron.late again my breathing is leaving after yours
stay one time holding things i know you're asking for you're
always there inferior my time to let it go to my brother
hold that iron time to collide your face is strong
your eyes want to unfold inside of me inferior.late again
my breating is leaving after yours stay one time holding
things i know you're asking for throw away for these things
can go no longer