Print

Weeks are just numbers And numbers are nothing more then crushing stars Reveal my disposition as I hit the floor This distance won't label us Mask imprints left behind by fortunetellers Our vital bed lay grounded You will never label us Provocateur of turquoise ballets Pedestal to adulation Lucent skies from your eyes bleed gorgeousness Take my hand We'll always be joined at the skin I give you my word My love some words of comfort here I am the one fearing open parachutes But if you jump I'm coming right after you Tonight we dine on each other Tonight we dine on each other's sound Tonight it will always be in our hands If life tends to keep us apart, I'll cradle myself into you From Letras Mania