Our lives twist like woven threads on an endless loom of time, we will make a quilt that is both lovely and warm.
So when you're shivering dejections, I'm unwilling to let vapors rise from my pride.
We'll stare out on the horizon, that moment where we end. The ocean and sky seem colorless and times that you forget me. I will find, always have.
My heart belonged to paper like songs were gonna save me, but the characters could not stand for me. The daughter of the mapmaker and a seaborne fisherman tasted the salt of the harbor where they wept
This book laid on its binding my pages toss in the wind. And kings race across my celing, like fevers through my head, as I lay down on my back.