I fumble for my matches out there in the frosty winter
It's 11 degrees and 4 in the night
The angel of the dawn is already there
Sighing longingly and sitting on a ledge

I go sit beside him and he laughs a little and lits up the holy flame
That's all what its' good for now anyways lighting cigarettes and turning minds to ash

He tells me a story or two
Stories about failed lovers, cr...

Read and leave comments (3)