Tapestry
Spilling Sand
Those funny feelings floating friction or not, whisper or talk, we're inside and it's all I knowI hate spilling timeI wish my days could play out like some dark masquerade, with a mask on my face I'd begin to move and quit dancing in placeI know I can't ever get all that time back again, so I'll back track my steps and try to ease my little way back into then, when those lines were fuzzy like my grandfather's styleMy warmth trapped inside, more than enough to get me through the winterThough I always had my friends by my side, distractions ran wild while everything became a bit more rigidI should have known in the frigid air, froze up when I was lacking the hands, I wanna thaw out, got my mind on that sandMore concerned with messing with my mind, then the constant press of timeA wasp in the winter I'm nowhere to be foundI silenced my buzz and was forced underground to suffer through time in the absence of soundFamiliar with hindsight, yea we talk every day, I say silence ain't gold if you've got things to sayAnd the shake in my voice is reflecting that weightYou frequent my bedroom and whisper in my ear but you're valuable wisdom remains an idea, so you can fall back behind cause' for now I'm in the clear
From Letras Mania