And blood was running down
Her dress in streams into her hands where she
Was stitching on the flesh hed left
(Gruesome way of representing her loss of virginity possibly? If anything, a sexual encounter.)
In sections on the carpet near a bed that
Never slept while she was sleeping
In her clothes that he had laid with on
The floor with all his fingers crossed
In hoping that that distance
Wouldnt grow.
(Obvious, he had hoped that this wouldn't ruin their relationship, that it'd bring them closer.)
But how it grew,
And how it hurt,
And how it hallowed every memory hed
Never felt was threatened by a thing the world
Could conjure up to kill them, but he let it kill them
What a bunch of fools we lovers are.
And now shes smiling, with her self put back together, just a shadow of the past before the war.
All sewn together, like a city sick from storms and sick of waiting for a god to call the floods out of her home.
what a bunch of fools we lovers are
when tempted by the taste of flesh.
(We are. Sexual desires drive everything. He feels guilty for what he's done.)
"my boy, you are nothing more than a thief and a whore in a suit of the finest of armor." laughed the vulture.
"pathetic little child, i am embarrassed for you."
Again, the guilt. Driven by the taste of flesh, broke this poor girl's heart.
I'm gonna break down the song part by part.
And blood was running down Her dress in streams into her hands where she Was stitching on the flesh hed left (Gruesome way of representing her loss of virginity possibly? If anything, a sexual encounter.)
In sections on the carpet near a bed that Never slept while she was sleeping In her clothes that he had laid with on The floor with all his fingers crossed In hoping that that distance Wouldnt grow. (Obvious, he had hoped that this wouldn't ruin their relationship, that it'd bring them closer.)
But how it grew, And how it hurt, And how it hallowed every memory hed Never felt was threatened by a thing the world Could conjure up to kill them, but he let it kill them
What a bunch of fools we lovers are.
And now shes smiling, with her self put back together, just a shadow of the past before the war. All sewn together, like a city sick from storms and sick of waiting for a god to call the floods out of her home. what a bunch of fools we lovers are when tempted by the taste of flesh. (We are. Sexual desires drive everything. He feels guilty for what he's done.)
"my boy, you are nothing more than a thief and a whore in a suit of the finest of armor." laughed the vulture. "pathetic little child, i am embarrassed for you."
Again, the guilt. Driven by the taste of flesh, broke this poor girl's heart.
Pretty simple, guys.