| [00:22.22] |
Cut with dull scissors and tied with a ribbon. |
| [00:31.72] |
Curated under the glass of my pendant. |
| [00:42.78] |
You always said you hated the things you can't control, |
| [00:52.52] |
Like all the wild hair that grows from your follicles. |
| [01:01.64] |
I've been collecting peices of your hair, |
| [01:06.88] |
To tuck away in the locket that I wear. |
| [01:12.75] |
Pretty strands that grew in your youth. |
| [01:17.98] |
Pieces that I'll always hold on to. |
| [01:27.04] |
|
| [01:33.44] |
Sweeter than a vial of your blood, |
| [01:42.95] |
Will never dry or disintegrate. |
| [01:51.42] |
|
| [01:53.47] |
Pieces you tied back when we made love, |
| [02:02.80] |
Now slipped away where they loyally wait. |
| [02:13.74] |
When you're old, grey, and deceased, |
| [02:19.38] |
I'll still have parts of your young body. |
| [02:24.76] |
The one you lived in when you loved me, |
| [02:30.46] |
The rest of you now decomposing. |
| [02:36.00] |
I've been collecting peices of your hair, |
| [02:41.30] |
To tuck away in the locket that I wear. |
| [02:46.70] |
Pretty strands that grew in your youth. |
| [02:52.19] |
Pieces that I'll always hold on to. |
| [02:57.88] |
One day you'll be dead and embalmed, |
| [03:03.19] |
But bits of you will be existing on. |
| [03:08.74] |
Pretty strands that grew in your youth. |
| [03:14.48] |
Pieces that I'll always hold on to. |
| [03:21.38] |
|
