Two Brothers - This Room, This Floor

The one thing without condition is the taste of blood
As I bite my tongue to see your face
I apologize to my brown headed boy
There's nothing left to say
There's nothing left to fucking say
There may be devil in my faith
There's nothing left to say
There may be devil in my faith
There's nothing left to say
This aubade is all I got
I hope you know how to listen
The fourth, the fifth were made for this
And you'll never know any different
Am I on your mind in any way or anytime?
I think you're born of snakes
There's nothing left to ever say
Am I on your mind in any way or anytime?
I think you're born of snakes
There's nothing left to ever say

Written by:
Dylan Cerminaro, Max Dickenson, Robert Thomas

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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