12 acessos
Late summer night
Painted purple
Storms from the right
Words that hurtle
Lips curl to fight
Eyes are startled
Blood from the bite
Seems to sparkle
Now is the time
It's too late to fly
Hurting just to hurt
No silver light to brighten
Clouds in our sight
Now is the time
It's too late to fly
I must try to stop this downpour and clear the skies