Из альбома: Lullaby
Cross out the calendars boxes,
fists fly like the hands on a watch kid
You are the reason
that we love to hate the things that we love
Time and distance,
hearts uplifted
sweet anticipation wasted
Seeking truth in perfection,
but that's not the lesson
Salt the wounds and cut the bruises
Indecision plagues the weekends
Break break break away,
from the ordinary
Well who am I to say that it's wrong