Limeset
You Cant Go Home.Brushing a thin dust from under the tire swing humming while plucking rust from the guitar strings far as the tune carries on a pair of winged lips follow the soothing riff wherever the strings kiss brings me back to the summers of unlimited chance in the sun swingin bats and jumping river banks a young prince the king of this great sleep state moonbeams sway like a dreamcatchers dream date he was chose as a child to lead golden and wise to behold the rare lotus with bare open eyes as he grows realizing the glows in the skies are the lonely and tired trying beckon him home &nbsYou Cant Go Home.
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"The Prince is never going to come, everybody knows that; and maybe Sleeping Beauty's dead."
~Lestat
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