Around 6 pm when my hope dies away
I just stare at the wall
I’m not sad, not happy
I’m lonely but not alone
I came to be like you
Cynical, or wise
Afraid of spiders
And I haven’t read in ages
I miss my friends and the scent of the pages
I miss crying my eyes out
In your wounded arms
I’m lucid but not sober
Kill your mum before you have a daughter
What you never face don’t go into space
It doesn’t oh no, it surely doesn’t
Stop the noise and listen to
The little voice
For once in your life could you
Make a choice
And I haven’t read in ages
I miss my friends and the scent of the pages
I miss crying my eyes out
I haven’t read in ages
I miss my friends and the scent of the pages
I miss crying my eyes out
In your wounded arms
You know it’s just
An old trick
That some have
And some don’t
That some share
And some keep
In their jewelbox
In their tomb
Your body only warmed up by tailpipes
Even the shower’s water feels fake
When you finally get home to draw on your joint like you used to suckle you mum’s milk
And when you’re all stone you think you’ve got it all and from the heights of your foggy tower
You come to me
Your hands look for my breast and I’m so sober and I’ll give you some peace
But I know I shouldn't
And I haven’t read in ages
I miss my friends and the scent of the pages
I miss crying my eyes out
And I haven’t read in ages
I miss my friends and the scent of the pages
I miss crying my eyes out
In your wounded arms
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
