I was met on the road by a face I once knew,
Shapeless was his frame and his colors were few,
We went out for a time but his sentence is in,
Climbing in to the eye where the numbers begin.
Go back down, don't touch the ground,
Go back down, don't touch the ground,
Go back down, don't touch the ground,
Go back down, don't touch the ground.
I was met on the road by a face that was mine,
Echoed chambers and spoke with a [?],
You can never go home if you were never shown,
Spots on the irises bleed where the numbers were born.
Go back down, don't touch the ground,
Go back down, don't touch the ground,
Go back down, don't touch the ground,
Go back down, don't touch the ground.
No comments:
Post a Comment