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by rafaelpimpon in Personal

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9 by April by 2016

When the days are cold
And the cards all fold
And the saints we see
Are all made of gold

When your dreams all fail
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of all
And the blood's run stale

I want to hide the truth
I want to shelter you
But with the beast inside
There's nowhere we can hide

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4 COMMENTS

cristy_hg - 9 by April by 2016, 16:59

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Beautiful ;)

AldoWasHere - 9 by April by 2016, 18:35

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Demons, de Imagine Dragons ;)

ixty - 9 by April by 2016, 19:05

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Nice =)

Ann Alexander - 9 by April by 2016, 19:58

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Mola la letra

Line 63

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