No title
The TV screen is black,
The speakers are dead,
And there is so many things,
That were left unsaid.
The covers were left mangled,
The lights were left off,
But the moment was captured,
So easily, So soft.
Our eyes slowly close,
You swallow the dirty dose,
And something things we loathe.
My love can only do so much,
Then our fingertips touch.
That's a verse, and we're working on a chorus.
We just, can't find one to fit. But how's the verse?
Thanks,
Image
Copyright 2007 Image
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Image is everything, and everything is image.
Last edited by Image : 10-25-2007 at 06:52 AM.
Reason: Mistake
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