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move into the grave that bares your all in the taste of salt on your for me to walk face first into sliding glass for your my high is creeping, but is it set in stone? we're both wasted, but we're not going anywhere like (now i) choke on the urge of taking it back (so we'll see right through) (till i'm) spilling the blood that rests on my (dreaming) of holding your head, detached from the this fuse left burning, but now we're far too lest sick from the guild you to let the past stitch our wounds and seal our lust sick in this we won't believe in anything
HATA BİLDİR
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