The Widow – THE MARS VOLTA He's got fasting black lungsMade of clove-splintered shardsThey're the kind that will talkThrough a wheezing of coughsAnd I hear him every nightIn every poreAnd every time he just makes me warm Freeze without an answerFree from all the shameMust I hide'Cause I'll never, never sleep alone Look at how they flock to himFrom an … Continuar lendo The Widow – THE MARS VOLTA