Sunday, November 8, 2009

Cosmic ghost condense to form dark matter

What’s the matter with you?
Understand withering light
Leave only his scent to fill

He was a musician and played me good
And I sang for him until I changed my tune
Time to leave before the serenade is the death of you

Slip unto the velvet night
A universe born under a collapsing star
Shooting far away from you