all around, pictures of craters with crooked necks and teeth hands glued to glass sweaty palms gaping through windows walk slow with cement for feet straight cautious steps paperweights taking up space littering sidewalks and streets still so empty
boy you wanted to see everything from above and you can’t picture it any other way now you’re fastened to the ground stuck looking up and you can’t help but feel like you’ve been misplaced
your life’s not half bad shouldn’t you be thankful for that that it’s only half
time has passed but you’re still the same pushing it aside waiting till it’s too late forgetting faces, making this one count turn for the worst, won’t turn it around
this life is finite, it’s days are numbered was it something less than intended you’ll figure it out along the way this life is finiteTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
