- cifra
Keep The Streets Empty For Me
Memory comes when memory's old
I am never the first to know
Following the stream up North
Where do people like us float
There is room in my lap
For bruises, asses, handclaps
I will never disappear
For forever, I'll be here
Whispering
Morning, keep the streets empty for me
I laying down eating the snow
My fur is hot, my tongue is cold
On a bed of spider web
I think po how change myself
A lot of hope in a one man tent
There's no room for innocence
Take me home before the storm
Velvet mites will keep us warm
Whispering
Morning, keep the streets empty for me
Uncover our heads and reveal our souls
We were hungry before we were born
