When words fail, music speaks.
lieliska --- This scalpel makes a map across my back. Carve a short cut to your suitcase lips. There's no saving us tonight. Our pulse will flutter like a dial tone. As you touch my hand for one last time, the car engine hums us to sleep. The lies. Your subtle teeth. Tonight is the rest of our lives, a carbon monoxide lullaby. Evacuate. Abandon this breath. Pull myself apart. Just to feel something real. I close my eyes I turn my back for one last time. I hold my breath I fall alseep inside your arms. Your eyes reflect my regrets. All the feelings you cant afford and the ones I cant control have collided. Now I'm a mess. I've tried my best to hide it. Now it's obvious. I wear it in these wounds that never heal. There's no saving us tonight.