I have a reason to live. Can't take away from me!
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The car drove past at a hundred miles.
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It threw a bag in the shape of a body that read.
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I've got time and you're wasting it here.
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She knew these words and placed her body back into her bunk.
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She dreamed of better spaces.
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Like the ones stuck in replay.
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Ejected from her morals
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Her mind told her it's sane, it's sane.
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I'd like a signal that I receive.
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A clearer picture than my TV.
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A static free emotional sound
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breaking through all the darkness that surrounds me.
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Towns seem to compliment her style.
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She trys to swallow a sinker with the hook intact.
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Probing her heart with words of fabrication.
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She torments herself but that thin line to heaven is strong.
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Her feet can barely function. (she looks around)
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She's breathing from one lung. (she looks around)
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She's just convinced to die, to die.
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She says "that word" which cuts like a knife.
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Coming from your TV is a message far from truth.
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-----------------
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Freesignal
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Beanbag |