That is not my blood on the bedroom floor
That is not the glass that I threw before
He gets his power from tide and wave
The grains of sand are my domain
His tempest searched an angry flesh
Then through my arms formed a sea of glass
Shattering sea,
closing my eyes
Shattering sea,
closing my eyes
Shattering sea,
closing my eyes
Every line,
every curve,
every twist,
every turn Of every brutal world
Every turn,
every line,
every line,
every curve,
every twist,
every turn
Every curve of every brutal world
That is not my blood on the bedroom floor
That is not the glass that I threw before
