Pulling the comb (I have become) Hair in the wound (Threaded and through) I seek to please And feign fulfillment
Gathered in pain Maybe folded away And interlaced Red ink Reverse display And woe is me Back then I worshipped shame And here and now Not much Not much has changed
Pulling the comb (I have become) Hair in the wound (Threaded and through) I seek to please And feign fulfillment
Leap in with me Into this angry flood
Punctured in silence I heard your name today And what is not fair I'm falling down again The normal tokens The postures we assume Who is it all for The sun appears to move My shuffled segments My arms adjusting to A lack of presence Refusing what we choose Swift and selective Just paper ripped away These shearing forces Horizon lines dictate And planes of weakness Surround laconic days My obligations Continue on unchanged Abandoned panic Somewhere out of frame Refined, colliding Slanted breath sustained Too many old truths Renounced appearances And only two doors Direction unconvinced My inner canon Conflated punishment With independence A certain sense of regret So I keep clapping along Stiff as the magic fades It doesn't matter Skewed back in self restraint
Both forming zeros again You set my teeth on edgeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
