the cold air enters through my wounds
reminding me that i'm alive
i would rather stay dead
than feel this pain
deep into winter
the only heat is that of nostalgia
innocence corrupted
by the scratches of anguish
a first lump in the throat
that will no longer be unleashed
when was the last time you were free?
when was the last time you were happy?
I don't know if I don't remember
or that I never really was
innocence corrupted
by the scratches of anguish
a first lump in the throat
that will no longer be unleashed
