a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de if our history is not as whole, there's a hole in his story - deadpoets.

when winter’s hands come around again and reach for the trees, to choke them of their strength and steal away their leaves
is that a moment that we can transpose, to our own selves and our own woes? or are we so different that those trees are so alone?
we are all falling trees in an empty wood with n0body around, with n0body around to hear us make a sound
and that in itself speaks volumes of the human condition, that we’re constantly surrounded by each other yet still something is missing
it took me 2 years and 1 month to work this one out for myself, what it truly means to say “in sickness and in health”, because not all sickness is of our bodies and it’s so much more than just feeling melancholy, it’s that overwhelming feeling of regret that infects and inflects, and no matter how hard we try to pull ourselves out, we digress and regress into a deeper mess
and it takes more strength than you can muster in those tired old bones, and it takes more than just a family to make a house a home
our genetics aren’t written into our bodies with a predisposition to make us lovers, all in all the same, as it takes more than just generics to call someone father or mother
creating life has no purpose if that life can find itself lost at an intersection and you aren’t there to help it find direction, it’s about your connection and somehow that always seems to go unmentioned
and it’s beyond definition but still deserves your recognition, for when we forget the power that a handshake, a hug or even a smile can give, then we’ve already made the wrong decision, like a voluntary incision in your own wrist, a self-made symbol of another opportunity missed
and in that instance, somewhere in that missed chance, you’ve taken the wrong turn, toward voluntary hurt and disappointment, and we wear it on our faces like a rash for which there is no ointment, because how could we not see it? how can we not see just how much we’re all suffering, somehow?
and it takes more strength than you can muster in those tired old bones, and it takes more than just a family to make a house a home
and it takes more strength than you can muster in those tired old bones, and it takes more than just a family to make a house a home
our genetics aren’t written into our bodies with a predisposition to make us lovers, all in all the same, as it takes more than just generics to call someone father or mother
finally, i worked out why they always keep a bible in the top drawer of hotel rooms and they’re no longer held in front of brides and grooms
when we’re alone and far from home, we are forced to confront ourselves and admit to our own h-ll, it’s the one that we create for our self that fosters all our spite and hate
and they will try to tempt you further away from who you are with a promise of god and heaven, but the only heaven worth dying for is the heaven we all live in
it’s all written in the subtext of those hotel books, that you’ll never find yourself no matter how hard anyone looks, and we all have to believe, so believe in something, just never believe in yourself and become more than nothing
but believing in ourselves is where our journey begins, finding ourselves is finding the right direction to take those first steps in, finding someone else is to find yourself in the perfect position, and the only heaven worth dying for is the heaven we all live in

- deadpoets

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS