The Bled
"Spitshine Sonata"


I lost my voice in the fire.
I burned my eyes staring at your eclipse.
I was just a child.
My father's favorite.
Such delicate arms keep reaching toward the horizon.
As we keep starving for this beauty, we are sick with distance.
Starving for this beauty.
We are sick with distance.
Grieving for his failure.
We are sick with distance.
You keep me on my knees,waiting for, waiting for.
You keep me on my knees mummified in your arms.
You keep me on my knees,waiting for, begging for.
This is the last chance that you will get to say my name into his chest.
I lost my voice in the fire.
I burned my eyes staring at your eclipse.
I was just a child.
My father's favorite.
Such delicate arms keep reaching toward the horizon.
Only the deaf find peace.