Keeping all these cobwebs on my ceiling 
Ingesting all the dust from where i'm lain 
Tearing in tight shoes, the same feeling
Volatile to the incoming pain

I've dug back 
Voices that i hear in the silence
And its all pitch black
Sleeping with the imagery of you, and you

Do you ever think I'd rest from all the weeping?
Remembering those ivory colored frames
Even if you'd sugarcoat these feelings
All of it is loosely tied by you

Mourning the mornings
Sleeping with the imagery of you, and you.

of you and you.
of you and you.
of you and you.

Ian Intong

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