Ryan Biracree
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Funeral For A Lone Guitar

Ryan Biracree


I bleed to see you
I bleed to feel you
I bleed, I need you
across the universe the crimson tears to fill an ocean up and wash away the wash away the rust off all the armor that swords of sorrow thus have scarred knowledge speaks but wisdom hears the borrowed words of slain guitars
I bleed to see you
I bleed to feel you
I bleed, I need you
troubled women red light district speaking without moving lips whose touch has spurned a thousand men to take up arms against the crooked paths they choose they lose the universe
I bleed to see you
I bleed to feel you
I bleed, I need you
careful careless bloody hearts won't care about the summer heat which like the knives will pierce the thinly veil as jesus' wearied toes had pierced the water of the sunlit skies
caressing and soaking up the tears of heart the dying cry as their eyes too tired to congradulate oneself from dreams
I bleed to see you
I bleed to feel you
I bleed, I need you

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