Paroles de Travaller

Live with me liver die with that dire holding beholder tonight Wrap me in willing, remeberance thrilling ambivalence killing the light Traveller, I journied for the truth of her - abandoned it in tire Wayfarier, the living got the best of her and all those little eyes Those dim eyes, those demised Branded by failures, while tripping on saviours may no love be labored white spite Granted a chance to recall what I did do, even though I knew of respite Mayflyer, passed through me just a week after the traveller took to ride Perjurer, my love for lover projected her she conjured me with eyes Those dim eyes, those damn lies Those dim eyes, those demised Follower won´t make the same mistakes with her and bestow myself at last Onto her I do; for with and easier and never see the past In those dim eyes, in those dim eyes