Water broken voice, saturates a microphone
into a reciever with no tongue
offering, little to what it knows
Then a silence so heavy, broken hearts fall from throats
when heaven is remembered but never seen
through hearts shaped like kaleidoscopes
Eternaly, the sun has set to mourning
and contoured are the backgrounds
on the canvas to which our lives are painted
into a reciever with no tongue
offering, little to what it knows
Then a silence so heavy, broken hearts fall from throats
when heaven is remembered but never seen
through hearts shaped like kaleidoscopes
Eternaly, the sun has set to mourning
and contoured are the backgrounds
on the canvas to which our lives are painted