Sky Dry

Most of the time
The wind takes me to the desert of my blues
There my heart would never stop to ooze
Most of the time, I'm so thirsty for the liquors of your lips
But the only things I'm ought to drink are the memories of your tears

So I fly to your eyes
But I find no kind of water in that sky
Keaving me high and dry
Until you see me in your mirror and cry

Most of the time
The people I meet are mirages of sand
Ghosts lost in the spinning circles of my mind
Most of the time I can't even recognize myself
In a bunch of me, just wait and see which one will ask for a drink

And fly to your eyes, but find no kind of water in that sky
So I lay down and I sleep, until you see me in your mirror and weep



Credits
Writer(s): Julien Boutier
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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