Stand on the obsidean cliffs
at the edge of the world with me...

Delicacies turn to ashes.
Quiet paper rests on fragile tongues...

Once upon a time there was a duck.
The duck, he liked to say quack...

Talk big and watch the sky bleed,
mirrored in the lake that is my eyes...

A key is just a key
until it bites into a thumb...

There's a place God must've blessed
where the water swirls like sand...

There's a place far away
in a land long forgot...

Why do I feel as if my lungs are made out of...
And this invisible rain keeps bleeding through...

What am i to do?
(Nothing left to do...

Just another teenage trend,
passing on the media breeze...

Little whitewash bench glistens in the sun.
Too hot for a day so cold...

Little broken record,
She still sings her same old song...