Το ημερολόγιο ενός φυγά XXXIII

 

City of masks, floating in paper seas

Learns how to break and bend without pain

The wind is a scarpel, reavealing every flaw

Bleeding every secret

Torch that velvet pause

Make your halo a noose 

For every demon that doesn't lead you to heaven

For every angel that tries to sell you his private hell

Eyes whisper, senses writhe

Voice like rain, washes away the nonsense

A hidden life unravels

Fingers light the sky

Lose my self in you

Lose everything for you

There's a secret map that only appears in your mirror

The outline of your reflection

Take me there

Baptise me in your mirror's waters

Shelter me

And let all these cities of masks burn

'Cause I'm tired of longing

Perfect things that never come

In the right time

In the right place