The moon that watched us dance together
is the same that watches us part ways
I've never loved like this
in the throes of madness and desperation.
Love, for your love
that tastes like a cinnamon stick
for your love that
I won't even lift a finger for, no.
There's no ink nor paper in the printers
to print out how much I love you
there's no more sadder nor darker
song than that of a goodbye.
Love, for your love
that tastes like a cinnamon stick
for your love that
I won't even lift a finger for, no.
I'll have to blur away
your words from my lips
forgetting is a skill that1
isn't so easy to learn, save me.
There can't be no sadder nor darker
song than that of a goodbye.
Love, for your love
that tastes like a cinnamon stick
for your love that
I won't even lift a finger for, no.
Love, for your love
that tastes like a cinnamon stick
for your love
I'm dead and I'm a bleeding flower, my love.
1. lit. 'the trade of forgetting', as in forgetting is a skill that must be mastered.