Tekster: Fighting Jacks. Picture Of A Key.

Sculptors Hands
At work spreads thin Clay over frames
It's just what he wanted flawless skin-deep deep eyes to look with
Mesmerize
In blank stare
He looks at his hands with hopeless fear as the clay crumbles down towards the earth

Bleed my thoughts on a picture that's lost will you be mine
I locked the door that my trust is behind will you be mine
Just not at this time

Cracked smile waves
At the mirror tries to say
That light is now clearer with eyes that pity self-reflection
Throw away your movie tickets
Wash away your romance kisses
Collect the thoughts that keep it driven to be what I wanted to be

Bleed my thoughts on a picture that's lost will you be mine

I locked the door that my trust is behind will you be mine
Just not at this time

My Berlin wall surrounds the town once again
The seas of fear from a hopeless man
And to rise to king it was only the plan can you see me
Can you read me
Can you feel my love story

Bleed my thoughts on a picture that's lost will you be mine
I locked the door that my trust is behind will you be mine
Just not at this time