For if life talked to you

This is most likely my weirdest one yet. I haven’t a clue what any of it means, I just started writing and I had to make myself stop.

For if life talked to you

 

 

Count 37 seconds into the song

 

In the heat of the day could you breathe,

can you look into the ruby of my life?

 

Are the marks on my body,

what your soul dreams of?

 

And the sway of who we are,

how it moves us and makes us live.

 

Bow stretched,

arrow notched,

target sighted in.

 

Take the neckless that hangs around my neck,

sing what others can only feel.

 

As the drums beat and ask me questions,

I can only go where the answers never speak,

and my neckless hangs..

 

On the hangman’s noose,

I find redemption,

on the full moons light.

 

Shivers cut through my shoulder blades,

and down my spine.

 

Through my breath I hear your words…

take what you will.

 

Take my breath,

take the soul that runs down my shoulder blades.

 

Look at the image of what reflects,

back at you in the heat of the mist.

 

Was it the sound or the image that moved you,

to take my soul to the end of it all.

 

Breathe in and feed out…

was it the soul that took it all?

 

Or was it the passion,

for what you could never have?

 

The passion died long time ago.

 

Now that all is left,

are the whispers of passion.

 

The dreams of this song,

drifting into your soul.

 

Author's Note