Testo The Funeral Pace

These calloused hands feel like gold when I work them to their bones, and every path i've strolled I know that she will always take me home. But for what it's worth I feel cursed every time the sun wakes up the earth. She's abandoned everything but me. My dreams are the fears of the rest of the middle of nowhere. Some day my charms will fade like fires in rain, like heat in the shade, like black hearts turning grey. She's afraid to look me in the eyes, or treat me like just another fucking one of the flies. We're a matter of time. I fucking love her, but she'll never love me back