With my hands under my belt and my neck so slightly turned. The scenery's in for the fireworks. But like some shadow, you kept following me. Or like some sickness or some discomforting disease.
It would take an army of angels to restore her health back to herself.. Her heart belongs to another.. A boy whose mystery exaggerates.. She won't be hard to save..
When you speak your mind or swell. Then spit it in my face. I wish you weren't so beautiful. Your eyes, they never cease to follow me. . But I'm desperate, it's different than.
Footsteps marching and the soft angel voices. Singing to the sound of hundreds and thousands of lives. All muted by a wave of the ocean's fury. . Footsteps marching and the soft angel voices.