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I wash my face with sand, ignoring all the liquid truth |
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I wash my face with lies for keeping promised things inside |
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And when I watch the skies I try to spell out all their names, |
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But the letters make me sick so like your last try... |
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I wash my face with rocks, ignoring all the cutting truth |
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I spread dirt among the ruins you left when you went back |
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When you stand on the stone you'll feel how basically it is |
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And when you die on the stone you'll feel that it was me... |
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And so I try to be quiet, I try to let the pain be snow |
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And so I try to be quiet, I try to reshape the scheme of things |
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And so I try to be quiet, I try to let the pain be rain |
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And so I try to be quiet, I try to reshape the scheme of things |
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And so I try to be quiet, I try to let the pain be storm |
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And so I try to be quiet, I try to reshape the scheme of things |
