(no subject)

[tinpra]

Half a week before the winter
The chill bites before it comes
And I'm a child of the pleasure
That he brings before he runs

He sits behind a desk of Majogany
He whispers dreams into my ear
Though I've given him his empire
He delivers me my fear

The Unicorns are riding high
Powerful in Coats of white
I turn to look and burn my eyes
I carry on, I carry...

All the weight of empty promise
As I stand swallowed by the light
Flickering above the highway
I hold my head and know the streets are mine tonight

The vampires are growing tired
The coats of white all turned to red
My heart burns with desire
I carry on, I carry on

The unicorns are riding high
Powerful in coats of white
We turn to look and burn our eyes
I carry on, I carry...
The vampires are growing tired
The coats of white all turned to red
My heart burns with desire
I carry on I carry on