Different Pulses
My life is like a wound I scratch so I can bleedRegurgitate my words, I write so I can feedAnd Death grows like a tree that's planted in my chestIts roots are at my feet, I walk so it won't rest
Oh, Baby I am Lost...
I try to push the colors through a prism back to whiteTo sync our different pulses into a blinding lightAnd if love is not the key. If love is not a key.I hope that I can find a place where it could be
I know that in your heart there is an answer to a questionThat I'm not as yet aware that I have askedAnd if that tree had not drunk my tearsI would have bled and cried for all the yearsThat I alone have let them pass
Oh, Baby I am yours...