The winter of my life will be the fall of my being.
I can't change, God I Can't change.
Laboring under a misapprehension.
I can't change, I want to change.
Made a pact with my sheets,
scratching through my hands,
when I met my spider in England.
Your smooth teeth and the breath that glides over them.
you can't change, why can't you change?
It seems that our eyes were smaller than our stomachs.
You'll never change.
A cold, callous June, screaming out sand,
when i met your spider in England