• The autumn wind blows a suffocating aroma
    Leaves exchange looks of repugnance, contemplating what's to come
    Heaven's gates seem a mere playground to my fantasies
    Her lips against my own, melting into one perfect being
    Maybe Sasha this time or Ash, maybe even a stranger
    These strange passions leave me hollow and bitter
    An old empty lemon
    Anticipation seems the only rational thing to look forward to
    The reality is a bitter pill
    Hold me closer my dream women
    Throw away my sense of direction
    Drag me to your home
    Maybe Sasha this time or Ash, maybe even a stranger
    These passions and anticipation are my escape,
    Casting away my reality for it is a bitter pill to take