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I don't even know who I am anymore,
or how to stay calm through the storm.
Is it raining harder than before?
There's a sickness up there somewhere,
I can feel it seeping through the fucking floors,
Rotting me slowly to my core.

Sometimes the earth takes control.
It holds you tight, never letting go.
But you're not choking, until the air you breathe becomes so sweet
That you'd do anything for a taste of a little more.

The panic grows. This cycle flows.
It's growing loud, and I'm further from home.
Am I getting used to this drone?
Enthroned in grey,
This feels like being buried in stone.
I fall for the same shit every day, but it never gets old.

Sometimes the earth takes control.
It holds you tight, never letting go.
But you're not choking, until the air you breathe becomes so sweet
That you'd do anything for a taste of a little more.

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