Music/title: My Mouth, My Lips; From Indian Lakes
“But I can hear all the words spilling over my lips,
And I can taste every lie..”
. .. ….
You think you’re okay with it, until everything starts..
And then you’re knee deep in this- This life you’ve made for yourself.
The life you’ve so perfectly crafted out of absolutely nothing- Your own personal utopia..
Better than anything, and still never enough.
/ / /
One week behind, and the words are falling faster than I can write them..