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• Artiste: Thrice
• Titre: Silhouette
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INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
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Your eyes, followed me here. Your eyes, seamless and sure. They leave me broken and, in need of a cure. Your eyes, followed me here. Your eyes, sifting my soul. They leave me broken and forge diamonds from the coal. They race me along the infinite synapse of white lines. and then while chasing the dawn with storybook syntax Your eyes slit the throat, of all I know. About myself and this life. Silhouette lies. And your eyes, speaking in tongues. Vigilant still, filling my lungs. Testing my will. They leave me broken and, bruised and bleeding. Your eyes, resting in flame, Leave me breathless again Like hydrogen Split on faultlines or ten years living with exposure to radon Your eyes slit the throat, of all I know. About myself and this life. Silhouette lies. Your eyes, Your eyes. Speaking in tongues. Vigilant still, lead our way. Filling my lungs. Testing my will. You slit the throat, of I know. About myself and this life. Silhouette Lies. You slit my throat. Because I know, That this life, is a lie. So slit my throat