The cold tonight seems more anxious to talk than he has seemed in nights before skinless face and yellow heart, he hesitates and I wait All my stories are about the same things I find so many beds for them I find this package of tiny lamps and it makes a firey ring Right now is the reason I carry this j**el everywhere round my neck I keep it close but still outside this is my explanation All my stories are about the same things I find so many beds for them I find this package of tiny lamps and it makes a firey ring A box of love and s** and reflection its got my face and hands the lonely is yellow and old watch the cold around my bed All my stories are about the same things I find so many beds for them I find this package of tiny lamps and it makes a firey ring