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Grey Turning, Gold Turning Light
The Morning Of
Popularity ยท Moderate
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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The gears inside me grind, to a rhythm that makes these sparks fly in my mind.
I make myself beautiful wih an absensce of complexion.
Cynical with hopes and dreams, my white flag is raised and in this scheme,
I see the start to a new direction.
Though failure is fleeting, now the atmosphere's retreating.
Come on baby dive right in, lets sin with a little skin on skin,
oh i've been knocking all night but you still won't let me in.
Come on baby dive right in, lets sin with a little skin on skin,
ill make you finish first and then i'll add your ego in.
they scarcely corragate the surface with a wind of accidental burden,
we all wear lips that are cold bruised overused in tales of racy pasquinade
The wind might catch me, capture and dispatch me.
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