You're a cute small spade
Bearing all that you muster
You could dig my grave
I'd be honored to watch ya
I could sit and gaze
At your innocent nature
Like a campfire flame
That's been passed down for ages
And you're too good for me
Never had a night so reality
Little saint
You are pain in its pure form
A windowhouse rainstorm
You are warm
Like the feeling of pressure
The weight of your gesture
And you're too good for me
Never had my sight so staticly