Verona. Aoede. Zeneszám

Between saints and demons?
I found a muse alive?
With a pure intense lyric?
Described her passion craving sights?
With hopes of one who?s about to leave?
No matter how constant?
how painful?
how deep?
it?s your lust?
it?s your grip?
it?s your jealousy?
that collapses the ground right under my feet?

god only knows how much I cared and bled for you?
this moment now isn?t proving me different?
a constant glance of a life that?s blinding me?
clean cut ambition?
and a clean cut in my hand?
so I wish us the best?
it?s all killing me quickly?
and I want to know what it?s like?

I hate an awkward silence?
I hate sometimes?
I hate being right?
I hate Septembers?
I hate bad advice?
I hate there?s something about you I don?t understand?
I hate that I?m clumsy?
I hate that you?re right?
I hate that you?re busy the moments I?m not?
I hate being bruised at desperate times?
When it?s as simple as currents sailboats and life?

(Thanks to Verona for these lyrics)