Into the fog where no one notices
The contrast of white on white.
And in between the moon and you
The angels get a better view
of the crumbling difference between wrong and right.
As I walk in the air between the rain,
Through myself and back again.
Where? I don't know.
Round here we're carving out our names.
Round here we all look the same.
Round here we talk just like lions
But we sacrifice like lambs.
-Counting Crows-
Please note that some of the text may be triggery or disturbing. If you decide to proceed, please read with care.
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since December 16, 1999