You have always worn
your flaws upon your sleeve
And I have always buried them
deep beneath the ground
flaws (acoustic) / bastille
I seem to have a disorder where no matter what people say I always hear a food reference. My friend said something like, ‘This is a really nice car,’ and I was like, ‘Did you say birthday cake?’ It sounded nothing like birthday cake but that’s what I heard. Actually, I wouldn’t mind some birthday cake. Or a slice of pizza, for that matter.
Aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, the constant, overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible’s about to happen.
and as the world comes to an end, i’ll be here to hold your hand
'cause you're my king and i’m your lionheart
…and whatever role i played in it
"The archangel Michael, with the flaming sword. The fighter of demons, holy force against evil."
Someone take me back to Paris…
It brings these points, refines the rest.
Because these days are numbered, this life resolute.
I need this faith to keep me walking, to keep me alive.