Musica, - chiave d'argento che apri le fontane delle lacrime, ove lo spirito beve finchè la mente si smarrisce; soavissima tomba di mille timori, ove la loro madre, l'Inquietudine, simile a un fanciullo che dorma, giece sopita nei fiori... (P. B. Shelley)

25/09/07

Grey

Grey skies clouding up the things we used to see with wide eyes...
...I found telling you the truth the hardest thing to get out..
...I don't know if I would stay...
...Will leave you so empty inside
so you shouldn't even try
I know every last regret inside of me is my own
The way I hold them close has made me be this way
I will never change...
...But I'm better off alone

(Grey - Yellowcard)

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