Dissolve
Madame Spectrum
Like tears dissolving in the rain
Incarcerated but not violated by feelings of distress
I compress time in the palm of my hand
Fields full of green but empty of empathy
Painting new life out of the pain
I need some sleep, I’m lost in the streets again
You were born
Soon to be dead
Find the right words in your head
Without a warning
The last afternoon
Before your melody gets out of tune
Like time dissolving our memories
The present is the past of future centuries
A treasure in the palm of his hand
We fly into the fire, consumed by our fears
Please open your eyes and see
I need some sleep, I’m lost in this dream again
You were born
Soon to be dead
Find the right words in your head
Without a warn
The last afternoon
Before your melody gets out of tune
You are dead
Soon to be born
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