Album: Tales Of Brave Ida
Like glass shattering in a clean break
This is the art of a mistake
And we were like kids with a shotgun
Blowing up words till there were none
And maybe i'm too young
I thought that i could destroy it
Aimed shot and fired
Missed the target
But you keep coming abck
Hand me fractured words through the lens of time
And some things cant be burned
Even when they yurn to die
|3||Post Prom Disorder|
|12||Looking Through The Glass|
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|8||Empire of the Sun|
|9||Empire of the Sun|
|10||The Black Ghosts|
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