The sharp cage cuts deep.
That cold sound won't sleep.
Set fire. Burn everything.
Forget after this week.
Do what you can.
Stay young. Stay simple. Stay numb.
This time do what you know.
This is the progress.
This is the process
of staying simple.
Do what you can.
Your language acts as your turf is the holy land.
Do me a favor and try to get some sleep.
But don't remember Saturday.
Just try to disappear.
Your language is simple through your mother's eyes.
We're miserable when air gets cold.
Everybody cries.