cleanse
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And like that she became wet.
Undressing before she bathed in the storm.
Umbrella left home, by the door.
She wanted to be cleansed.
Clothes thrown to the side.
Where's the fun in being dry.
1.1
I posted my first song about you
It used to be celebratory
Now it's inflammatory
It shouldn't be
I saw midnight from the comfort of my sheets
I should have been in your arms
Yeah… the story begins inside of a black hole.
The exit is clear but you can’t seem let go.
You feel rooted down to the bottom of the pit,
There’s nothing here, so why haven’t you let go?
Heavy hearts filled with heavy stones,
We try to walk tall against the pain,
Thrashing in thick mud as we tread along,
the fog is smug and unforgiving,
clouding our vision.
