Melting Grid 歌词

Paper that’s quick to burn, I’m the cinnamon peeler Beetles crushed that dye the carmine, I exist to be dreaming still And if the roses need not tending Until noon I’d sleep But never could I have gone on that way Because money was not the thing that yielded sight Colorado, Wyoming, Helena into the Evergreen The waves washed all thought of endeavor that was left in me Would you ask my permission The next time you absorb me Preserve my memory of the mystic west As I lay no claim to the devotion I felt Our conversation banked in me and I had almost forgot the nature of dawn I thought of it for days after, even months after the moments were gone But I’d get so lonely inside of that room No matter who waited for me I’ll get so lonely inside of that room No matter who will ever wait for me