The words will follow the same patterns,
My life will hurt me every day,
And I forget that nothing matters
When you keep throwing me away.
I kill my time; it tries to kill me,
It ruins my soul while causing pain,
And only music still can heal me
With drums, guitars and falling rain.
My face is strange, my soul is chaos,
And you're afraid to lose yourself,
The time and distance will betray us,
While memories lie on the shelf.
Your beauty once will be forgotten,
My soul will be a legend once,
I will delete you, push the button,
Which works much better than the guns.
Patterns
© Copyright: Марина Чиянова, 2010
Свидетельство о публикации №110030605169
Свидетельство о публикации №110030605169
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