Madame Guillotine Testo

two arms crossing, winding. . .
as the tide roared in.
The highway howling high above,
the smoke rolled in and covered us.
It smothered us but still we wished
the seconds could be years.
Laguna Beach was soaked in tears,
the sea retreated,
the world retreated.
Nothing left but sand . . .
Laguna Beach ran through our hands.
A castle rose, a story closed too soon. . .