Last View
Anastacia
Black rose of Siberia, her fingers motionlessRazor thorns and trembling leavesGrown on vanity and love turned rogueSprung in may, hung by winterWeeded out and left to rotAt the center of attention, high up in this towerFrom my death bed, I sink into my desolate graveSprung in may, hung by winterWeeded out and left to rotWhen your heart becomes the carrierYou will be the last to knowLet heaven hear, I have become what I've stared at for so longI've become the storm
From Letras Mania