We try and we die in the
bliss of a lullaby
We hum soft and low to the
secrets below
We cannot forego
No matter the time
The itch of the ticking
The twelve o'clock chime
The threads at my fingers
And strings on my soul
Insist they must linger
And blacken like coal
SING IT!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteYesyesyes i found the perfect piano part :)
ReplyDeleteSO GOOD. SING!
ReplyDelete