A / Anadivine / Filling The Lungs (Of This Dead Machine)
My eyes and ears now focus on the change If friendship sanf a song my voice would strain Every note's in vain, every note In this spiteful harmony No conscience, no thought process, no release Your outlet of aggression begs you please Care for your disease And breed the perfect tragedy How is this my fault? And this is my life? Enduring every passing day The voice inside your head will say, Am I a failure? It's time to walk away Worshipping this casualty Inhaling what we need To fill the lungs of his dead machine Can't believe the pain it's taking the pictures perfect The frame is breaking As we draw closer your cold shoulder shows that you were so opposed And I can't believe this is the way you've killed yourself Worshipping this casualty inhaling what we need To fill the lungs of this dead machine Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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