What holy cities are to nomadic tribes - a symbol of race and a bond of union - great books are to the wandering souls of men: they are the Meccas of the mind.
G.E. Woodberry
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Biên tập viên
Diseased
Leave your mark under my skin
Oh my, how strong you are
And feast your eyes on my disdain
And hope this one won't scar
I will never belong to you again
I will never belong to you
Push if you still need my pain
'Cause I will never tell
And scream if you still hate my name
'Cause I'll be where I fell
Come sit close to me
Let me feel your breath
Come sit close to me
Hands around my neck
Come sit close to me
Let me feel your breath
Come sit close to me
Close to me
I will never belong to you again
I will never belong to you
And if I decide that I am alive then I'm diseased and ungrateful
And if I confide that I am a liar then I'm diseased and ungrateful
Push it in 'til it breaks
If it bleeds I'll be okay
If I decide that I am alive then I'm diseased and ungrateful
If I confide that I am a liar then I'm diseased and ungrateful
If I decide that I am alive then I'm diseased and ungrateful
If I confide that I am a liar then I'm diseased and ungrateful
Come sit close to me
Come sit close to me
Come sit close to me
Come sit close to me