Beneath the clouds,
Where the moon is sane,
Your words fall like rain,
And hit my chest,
where the doctor said:
“It sounds like a
dying star.”
And because of this,
I didn’t get far
Beyond my eyes,
Before they clashed
With the colour of yours.
Beneath the clouds,
Where the moon is sane,
Your words fall like rain,
And hit my chest,
where the doctor said:
“It sounds like a
dying star.”
And because of this,
I didn’t get far
Beyond my eyes,
Before they clashed
With the colour of yours.