Paul Thomas Saunders
Appointment in Samarra
You have scars on your face from where he left youyour blue eyes still aren't dryyour hands have run through your blonde hair a thousand timesyou say you're going to Samarra won't be back tomorrowyou left a letter on the floorbread winners won't be baking anymoreI've been wondering for awhile how records in your heart pull the Brompton shakes apartthe blood is in your handsthe bodies on the ground around usmake no future planssever every bound that binds usthat ties usthere is blood on the clothes that you'd once wear for himwas it worth the lace facadehis hands you still feel round your waist on rainy daysI've been wondering for awhilehow records from your past make the brief encounters that lastLetras de cancionesthe blood is on your handsthe bodies on the ground around usmake no future planssever every bound that binds usthe blood is on your handsthe bodies in the ground around usmake no future planssever every bound that binds usthe blood is on your handsthe bodies on the groundthe blood is on your handsthe bodies on the groundthe blood is on your handsthe bodies on the ground around usmake no future planssever every bound that binds us
From Letras Mania