This Way

Psapp

Compositor: Psapp

Your new, key black eyes,
rest and on me.
Your hand's like paper,
on my knee.

I kneel at your chair,
until you stay.
But we, will I'll go.
This way.

The end of your days,
will happen here,
in this sold house,
and with no fear.

This way, I know, This way.