Snow melts into the ocean. Open the skies and pull the stars closer. These times as swift as feathers. I'd rather be worse than better. Then I heard your music scattered so cautiously where your hair falls, a few notes of a song you'll never hear.
Snow melts into the ocean. Open the skies and pull the stars closer. These times as swift as feathers. I'd rather be worse than better. Then I heard your music scattered so cautiously where your hair falls, a few notes of a song you'll never hear.