Mortality Rate - Temple

Текст песни

Feel her pulse within your hands
Weave her hair through the paper
And hope your pen runs out of the ink that writes of the pain in your eyes
Write these words like her veins
Spread these words like her veins
Feel her pulse within your hands, weave her hair through the paper
Hear her silence within these words, all she leaves is a whisper.
Write these words like her veins
Spread these words like her veins
Remember the letters that you never sent
The promises she never kept, hope that your pen runs out
Runs out