All fathers Capulet

We were the lovers,
you never looked beneath my tiles.
You gave me cover,
when you handed me your smile.

You draw me gracefully,
painted eye lids soar,
poured your love right down,
my empty soul,
that hurts,
that hurts.

I saw your beauty from the start,
we took the time, a passion to reveal
I hid my truth in shallow heart,
underneathe a breast of rusty steel.

My passion flu will tear me down,
with little hope on broken tray.
I see despair reclaim the signs,
to resurrect where angels pray.

We were the lovers,
you never looked beneath my tiles.
You gave me cover,
when you handed me your smile.

You draw me gracefully,
painted eye lids soar,
poured your love right down,
my empty soul,
that hurts,
that hurts.

I took the penance,
for all fathers Capulet,
I killed the blessing,
and drank all day,
all night, to forget.

Tonight I’ll think of you my love
a night gown to caress.
Lonley skin for you unfold,
a golden house
– that’s never cold.

We were the lovers,
you never looked beneath my tiles.
You gave me cover,
when you handed me your smile.

You draw me gracefully,
painted eye lids soar,
poured your love right down,
my empty soul,
that hurts,
that hurts.

A hidden home of carton,
can’t hold my frozen tears away.
Without your comfort beacon,
my tender love will loose its way.

You held my ginger lung,
in rigid hand so fragile.
I walked on anxious stone,
so hot – it burned my feet.
Would we ever fall asleep,
on lifes pashmina veil.

We were the lovers,
you never looked beneath my tiles.
You gave me cover,
when you handed me your smile.

You draw me gracefully,
painted eye lids soar,
poured your love right down,
my empty soul,
that hurts,
that hurts,
that hurts,
that hurts,

it hurts…

…so much…