Every hour is a season,
Every minute lasts a day,
So I sit here picking stitches,
âCos I find comfort in decay,
How I long to fill my lungs.
So tell me how does it feel to,
Breathe air cold and clean,
Cos Iâve been living on my knees,
Since I was seventeen.
Thought I was safe beneath the smoke,
But even under cover,
I still choke.
And my wings are clipped but even if they werenât,
Iâve not the guts to fly and leave behind the earth.
Thereâs not poetry in my soul,
Just a list of lies Iâve told.
And I donâtâ know how much longer I can hold on.
And my wings are clipped but even if they werenât,
Iâve not the guts to fly and leave behind the earth.
Thereâs not poetry in my soul,
Just a list of lies Iâve told.
And I donâtâ know how much longer I can hold on.
And my wings are clipped but even if they werenât,
Iâve not the guts to fly and leave behind the earth.
Thereâs not poetry in my soul,
Just a list of lies Iâve told.
And I donâtâ know how much longer I can hold.
1 | Bones |
2 | Weight Of The World |
3 | I Want Out |
4 | Rising Up |
5 | You Are Not |
6 | Crystal Clear |
7 | Learn My Lesson |
8 | Winter Kiss |
9 | Sons Of Apathy |
10 | Daylight |