trixie whitley - pieces

In the graveyard of modern days
The sensual touch is
All that remains
You blew the fragile grace
On my skin and, in my face

Leaving pieces behind, anywhere I go
Every time I go
I'm leaving behind my soul
Leaving pieces of mine, everywhere I go
Braking in to pieces every time I grow

Constant dozing
The rose of the mind flow
Emptiness is always on the go
Gliding in the mirrors
Gathering the symptoms
Of all we have
And all we don't know

Leaving pieces behind, anywhere I go
Every time I go
I'm leaving behind my soul
Leaving pieces of mine, everywhere I go
Braking in to pieces every time I grow


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