Stilness
I don't know what I wanna find in you, maybe just reflection of myself
These streets try to push me to stilness.
Tide me up to curb of dead promises.
Crawling along embarrased windows,
Passing hundreds of forgivenesses in every of them.
Failing breath
Immature panes
Covering me with broken pieces
Incrusted belief in own conversion
I don't know what I wanna find in you, maybe just reflection of myself
These streets try to push me to stilness.
Tide me up to curb of dead promises.
Crawling along embarrased windows,
Passing hundreds of forgivenesses in every of them.
Failing breath
Immature panes
Covering me with broken pieces
Incrusted belief in own conversion