And sometimes the bullets fly like leaves tossed in a tempest. All around the ground just swells but it's only breaking the surface. And boiling over lakes of fire melt your shoes to the ground. Standing still immovable; frozen cold not knowing how.
When your hope dies at your feet you can't wait to start breathing again.
All that comes is a hiss from your lips.
God be with you, heaven knows the devil is
Yet another unread letter; short skirt photos of late nights out. We stumble in and kick it off and in slow motion fumble about. And in this freeze-framed state we've found our love; our love holds true. And in spite of traffic lights these fist-a-cuffs are nothing new.