letra de miasma - ohmme
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a moth has gone longing for
a house that was a home
with aching t–th of coral reef
to swallow up the whole
a beach of amber glinting past
a shiny glimpse of soul
with graying hair from temples vast
and never guest, oh no
oh no, oh no
oh no, oh no
they pick and pick to make us sick
a microscopic toad
a mind miasma sticking quick
a bit to quick to hold it off
before the fog has settled in
i focus on the cold
this day will never be the end(?)
reminding me of home
of home, of home
of home, of home
of home, of home
of home, of home
of home, of home
of home, of home
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