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Crickets rhythmically sing |
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Their mournful melodies |
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Of monotone by request |
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But they fail, they fail to soothe the mess |
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Hands rhythmically grope |
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The sheets again for you |
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And off rhythm the time slows |
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To make moments eternal, moments eternal |
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Is this some kind of holy test? |
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To stitch the trademarks off my chest |
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To get up, walk outside my head |
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On a holy search for angeltread |
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The moon within it's ball |
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Washes white the darkened wall |
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With a milky veil of silk |
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And I see, |
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I see the spirits lilt |
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Now I've lost my fear |
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So I pray that you come near |
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With a million sparkly lights |
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And help me, help me through the night |
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Is this some kind of holy test? |
|
To stitch the trademarks off my chest |
|
To get up, walk outside my head |
|
On a holy search for angeltread |
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The milky prints of spirits near |
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I pray that they have lost their fear |
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A million wisps of sparky light |
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Weaving through the walls |
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Is this some kind of holy test? |
|
To stitch the trademarks off my chest |
|
To get up, walk outside my head |
|
On a holy search for angeltread |
|
Angeltread, angeltread, angeltread |
