Aeon Spoke
For Good
A hot and humid SundayFaces, faces everywhereThen a face, I remember my face years agoSuch fearThis is my dayOh, and I can dream above the buried cryBecause I've got something betterAnd it might just be my own, for goodMany psychic scars in just his short few yearsIn the noise of his silence, he ran away from the violenceTo healThis is my day, and I can see the wreckage in my headAlthough it's not the same, because I transform the pain, for goodI transform the pain, for good
From Letras Mania