Kerosene
The bottom drawer where it was stored
The dark where I don't dare to look
The quiet room, a sweet perfume
Stay quiet, lips to fingertips
Cover me in kerosene
All the years we lived in fear
Memories that never leave this house
The solemn smile, red and defiled
Living with this feels so much worse
Cover me in kerosene
Autor(es): Hernan Serna
