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Bleu

de George Ragan The Dead Son

Cocaine on the table, a reflection that I know
And you think you're better off here, but you're better off alone
Deep inside the valley, in a house made of gold
On a counter made of ivory, I think I sold my soul

In the shadows of a dream, feels like I could never leave
This powder-white porcelain, powder-white porcelain
Why can't I just stay away? Die a little every day
On powder-white porcelain, powder-white porcelain

Is death another virtue, a friend I know too well?
My only real companion, the sunset the city sells
The city might be burning, but in here you'd never know
Deep inside the valley, in a house made of gold

In the shadows of a dream, feels like I could never leave
This powder-white porcelain, powder-white porcelain
Why can't I just stay away? Die a little every day
On powder-white porcelain, powder-white porcelain

Sometimes I get so high that I don't wanna come back down
Sometimes I get so low that I don't wanna live right now
Sometimes I get so high that I don't wanna come back down
Sometimes I get so low that I don't wanna live right now

In the shadows of a dream, feels like I could never leave
This powder-white porcelain, powder-white porcelain
Why can't I just stay away? Die a little every day
On powder-white porcelain, powder-white porcelain

Powder-white porcelain
Powder-white porcelain
Powder-white porcelain
Powder-white porcelain

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