Everything of her

She had her fair share in numbers I had my fair share of cut time She didn't have her priorities strait I took to long to find mine. The difference between you and me are not our looks, our history, our faiths or our passions, but how we approach a day. I'm awake in my dreams, When song is played You dread the day All is played in the extremity of her place. We shaped our senses to survive sometimes the music is to dull to the ones vibrating in my veins Just once I'd like it to be drained. Her customs were custom made all stained in her name separated in death itself itself to blame. You can take her aspects with a touch of a flower scented sense She's something so delicate that to match her with words would never do justice to her power. Another limitless downer.