i thought, possibly,
that i had nowhere to go.
slow, stale
(in waves, or all at once)
mornings in satin graces
fade to
nights in painful places
cut up your teeth
or everything you need
at once, in full vibrance
call me Cure
over the moon, under the sea
i thought, possibly,
that i had nowhere to go.
slow, stale
(in waves, or all at once)
mornings in satin graces
fade to
nights in painful places
cut up your teeth
or everything you need
at once, in full vibrance
call me Cure