|
I met a shell of a mountain who knew she was finished |
|
Claimed she grew up from a grain of sand |
|
With every year wider she bloomed a little bit longer |
|
To the roof of the sky with outstretched hands |
|
She made friends with the sun, shared enemies with no one |
|
Counted weeks like she should of counted days |
|
And swallowed handfuls of night so she could sleep tight |
|
And turn her thoughts from its stone cold ways |
|
And this was the beginning, the start of the ending |
|
You can't die from a broken heart |
|
But from the time the sun rose |
|
To the space where it fell away |
|
She would love, and it wouldn't take part |
|
And every every day she would echo echo |
|
In every single way she should let go let go |
|
But it had her in its sights cupids icy arrows |
|
But so, so what |
|
So she caught every one with her heart like it was her duty |
|
It walked the wrong wrong way down her one way plan |
|
She was surrounded by forests, rivers and beauty |
|
Until that glacier froze over the land |
|
And so she blamed herself hated her wealth |
|
She was born at too young of an age |
|
And every night her dreams were touched by witches fingers |
|
Until her heart was caged. |
|
With every morning spent not caring if she cares or not |
|
Sleeping in the melt and mud, waiting for the earth to rot |
|
Burying herself alive she scrapes the hole that it left open |
|
Empty as her very heart, that mountain was all broken |
|
All broken, that mountain was all broken |
|
Now I can see that her |
|
Her blood's red and she's got feelings |
|
And they always get spilled both without thinking |
|
Without thinking, without thinking, |
|
Without thinking, I can see that her |
|
Her blood's red and she's got feelings |
|
And they always get spilled both without thinking |
|
Without thinking, they weren't thinking, |
|
Without thinking, I can see that her |
|
Her blood's red and she's got feelings |
|
And they always get spilled both without thinking |
|
Without thinking, I wasn't thinking, |
|
Without thinking, I can see that our |
|
Our blood's red and we got feelings |
|
And we always spill both bloods without thinking |
|
Without thinking, what were we thinking, |
|
We weren't thinking, what were we thinking of |