36 Crazyfists

Better To Burn
I tried to cover what mattered most, endless dose from my own ghost Holy wind blowing right on in... Things I should've been Coldness of night Inside winter's sleep Disturbing what's right Better to burn, better to leave it all in the dirt Wounds that mend, throwing caution to the wind... To the wind of the settled signs, on the end of the losing kind In that voice it bleeds again, shadow's luck to remind my wins Fill my lungs with summer's rain Designs of my escape through the endless drain Where I'd rather lose myself to the ocean's waves And swallow the tears of the sun Death's one last claim... From Letras Mania