The night's ocean is colored red, as the roses cut from my hand. It's time to move on from this, and I will grow from this. The sun shines dimmer each day, as the dissonant chord fueled by memory, we watch eachother grow, but children we still are, yearning to seek and to believe, we are not yet able to breathe. While we bleed the fresh air, and choke on the fear, of healing eachothers scars. Someone is there, someone is there.
see with your heart, and cry with your eyes closed.
see with your heart, and cry with your eyes closed.