Mood: Down/Alone.
Song: Still Light - The Knife.
The doctor came in the morning,
She held my hand, asked was it worth it,
Could it be worse than this?
Please recall, give me a hand,
Anything will do,
If this was the last time you should tell us what to do.
Hm.
Half a year.
You're face has barely shown.
Half a year.
And we still haven't spoken on the phone.
Half a year.
And you still hold yourself back.
Half a year.
Half a year.
Half a year.
And I still question if you care.
I don't think I'll be a smoker.
I'll just smoke when I feel like s**t.
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Missa Defunctorum
praise the lost souls, it'll set yours free
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