The cold tonight seems more anxious to talk
than he has seemed in nights before
skinless face and yellow heart, he
hesitates and I wait
All my stories are about the same things
I find so many beds for them
I find this package of tiny lamps
and it makes a firey ring
Right now is the reason I carry this j**el
everywhere round my neck
I keep it close but still outside
this is my explanation
All my stories are about the same things
I find so many beds for them
I find this package of tiny lamps
and it makes a firey ring
A box of love and s** and reflection
its got my face and hands
the lonely is yellow and old
watch the cold around my bed
All my stories are about the same things
I find so many beds for them
I find this package of tiny lamps
and it makes a firey ring