domenica 17 febbraio 2013

Different Pulses _ conleparole deglialtri

My life is like a wound I scratch so I can bleed 
Regurgitate my words, I write so I can feed 
And Death grows like a tree that's planted in my chest 
Its roots are at my feet, I walk so it won't rest 

Oh, Baby I am Lost... 

I try to push the colors through a prism back to white 
To sync our different pulses into a blinding light 
And if love is not the key. If love is not a key. 
I hope that I can find a place where it could be 

I know that in your heart there is an answer to a question 
That I'm not as yet aware that I have asked 
And if that tree had not drunk my tears 
I would have bled and cried for all the years 
That I alone have let them pass 

Oh, Baby I am yours...


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