wibiya widget

jueves, 12 de agosto de 2010


Broken minds against the power 
Send the angry, turn it harder 
They kill themselves without a pity
They are now death because they don’t feel it 

Above the heart between the nowhere 
I found a blanket with blood and dirty 
The sex is the instrument killed by that fever 
And the tears come when everything just got sicker 

I am only here waiting 
When it will come I will be running from it 
Kind of confusing I’m always turning it on 
Just the fear smells good then I will be gone 

Ana Lía Casvar 2009

No hay comentarios:

Publicar un comentario