segunda-feira, 25 de outubro de 2010

I’m letting go
To see if you hold onto me
I’m in doubt of what is thought and what is real
In our room
Between the shapes I thought I knew
A guilty… A pillow of feathers like snow


I’ve come to listening post be on your lines
I’m all ears to gather clues and look for signs

But I can’t hear the song you sing
While you try to soothe

Why are you whispering while the bombs are falling?




Go easy on me; I can’t help what I’m doing
Go easy on me; you can’t help what I’m doing


when thoughts have out numbered spoken words
In the early hours we failed to establish
Who was hurt



most.

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