Not to say its getting better
Nor to forge a complain
But my days grow short upon the weather
And there are whispers of your name
So you open the door
While I sleep on the moors
For you
I'm living life
On borrowed time
I carry the weight of an age
The well's run dry
Belly sucked to spine
So I drink from the world in your hands
From your hands
My soul's a song of seven verses
Each repeats without refraining
All was tired, and it only worsens
But now I've become my own second coming
My eyes are a meadow
To see my soul weep like the willow
For you
I'm living life
On borrowed time
I carry the weight of an age
The well's run dry
Bell sucked to spine
So I drink from the world in your hands
Here on me
Waiting for you
Time is gone for thee
So I wait here for you
But wait, wait
The mockingbird call to me
I said wait, wait
A fallen star fell to me
I said wait, wait
Its fruit from a poisonous tree
