Justin Rutledge
Snowmen
We want you on beds of burnished silverBeneath the buckling of the raftersAnd the twilight stung with cinderWe want you blonde above the raptureThat blows through empty chaptersAt the heart of all that mattersWe were coldBut now we’re freezingWe want you to tell those constellationsThe cross and all its stationsThat we are bound by patienceWe want you to sway with subtle motionTo ration this commotionFor we are bound by oceanWe were coldBut now we’re freezingWhere were you before they built these towers?We were coldBut now we’re freezing
From Letras Mania