There will be broken glasses,
Lit by red.
And screaming and shouting,
Words unsaid.
There will come rain,
Slowly,
Then all at once.
And there will come mornings,
Back to back.
A souvenir tattooed,
Deep black.
There will be broken glasses,
Lit by red.
And screaming and shouting,
Words unsaid.
There will come rain,
Slowly,
Then all at once.
And there will come mornings,
Back to back.
A souvenir tattooed,
Deep black.