Из альбома: Wake Up Swimming
Never finding a way out
They were finding some way in
Is it always some bullshit rotting from inside?
Torn away from the soul
Hollow in between
Carry out your paper for
Every movement saved
Every piece is torn away
Any movement
Step into the rocket like a noble cadet
Dreadful
Falling from the pocket of another sadistic man
Sinking in my stomach like a Johnston lament
Sewn to the pocket
Gentle value of the soul
That seems a waste of a battle
That bleeds the taste from a bottle
Chemical
Strapped into a rocket