| It comes to me with the blood of angels A diary with tricks of the tounge Smearing the sky across my face All you can do is surrender Erase everything you've ever known And become a different person A better person I stroll the boulivard at night sometimes Haunting a city in lunar dust Sometimes all you can do is erase and forget Sometimes you have to die a little more I felt the blood of angels stream down my arm And collect in a crevice on the pavement The scent of the moon Swallowing the air in my lungs And throwing shadows across the world For everyone to see Sometimes all you can do is repent Even if they're ghosts now I remember the cemetary trees in the autumn Sometimes people read the names on the stones To keep them from vanishing No one ever really lives But sometimes all you can do is anything at all |
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