The color code begging for the hour to hurry the boy and his dark little soul want to get up and leave. I swear lover, the night still bleeds I can clearly see that pretty place, it’s all I’ll ever have the crimson leaves placed in colored vases. Maybe this is our better place God knows I’ve prayed enough damn, heavy sipping the new, surely are different now. With temptation set to ruin everything I accept the bet, heavy mouths and their whispers sure, I don’t mind to listen. There against the edge claws dig in and twist with full attention now I have no other choice, but to listen closely to the girl who produces the beautiful photographs. Red colored vase, inspiration comes once love-making in the afternoon the bright sun outlining a very thinly laced dress. The colors in eyes, it doesn’t really matter now that I’m all blind. I’ll use my hands to get around I’ll feel the world on all fours.