LYRIC



A liar sows a fire ‘cross wings of flightless ire.
Azure eyes lie, dance on tears, cry.
Over strife, matters of tattered life.

In this cell, this hell can be no worse
than the company of myself.
In this cell, this hell can be no worse
than the company of myself.

Aisles to his melancholy end.
Aisles to his melancholy end.
Aisles to his melancholy end.
Aisles to his melancholy end.

Abstain from disdain.
An edge, it marks my pain.
It cuts, fills, then drains
this assault out from my veins.

In this cell this hell can be no worse than the company of myself.
In this cell this hell can be no worse than the company of myself.

Aisles to my melancholy end.
Aisles to my melancholy end.
Aisles to my melancholy end.
Aisles to my melancholy end.

In lightless shade we smile and fade for all that was, was a masquerade.
In lightless shade we smile and fade for all that was, was a masquerade.

Aisles to our melancholy end.
Aisles to our melancholy end.
Aisles to our melancholy end.
Aisles to our melancholy end.

  1. Christina

    May 8, 2021 at 6:59 pm

    Excellent words.

  2. Zain

    May 24, 2021 at 12:25 pm

    Excellent.

  3. Sophia

    June 20, 2021 at 5:03 pm

    Even a bird flaps as much as its wings.

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