domingo, 17 de junio de 2012

The Butterflies and the porcelain doll




Come and play with me
around the corpse of myself
Here´s a box of you
It´s made of dead butterflys
Please take care of it
I had to kill many
So forget it was mine

Rain smells like broken hearts
And mine taste like lemons
And your love hurts like hell
It´s painted stripes black and yellow

Remember that porcelain doll
Your daughter threw on the floor?
It was me
And it always will be

And the broken pieces of me
Shattered on the ebony
Remind me of those broken butterflies
And their beating wings´ melody

The glass in my galssy eyes
Is nearly broken
I hope one day when it falls
It cuts through your skin and bones
And the scars forever remain open

Come and play with me
around the corpse of yourself
Here`s a box of you
It´s made of dead butterflys
They´ll pierce your heart like needles
So regret it was mine

No hay comentarios:

Publicar un comentario