Days of the pheonix
i rember when i was told of story, of crushed velvet, candel
wax, and dried up flowers
the figure on the bd all dressed up in roses, calling beckoning
to sleep offering a dream, the words were as mystical as purring
animals
the circle of rage the ghosts on the stage appeared, the time
was so tangible ill never let it go. ghosts stories handed down,
reached secret tunnels below. no one could see me, i fell into
yesterday
our dreams seemed notfar away. i wnat to stay. i fell into
fantasy. the girl on the wall always waited for me and she was
always smiling
the teenage death boys, the tennage death girls.. and everyone
was danicng. nothing could touch us then no one cfould change
us then and everyone was dancing
nothing could hurt us then no one could see us then and everyone
was dancing. everyone was dancing
