chasing a lie
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tracing our scars
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moaning for help to be held
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and every day we feel further away from ourselves
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the concrete is wet, i feel too comfortable
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my response isn't limited to reactions
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and everything dies its little deaths everyday
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so with my head up my ass
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and my foot on the gas
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i set out to write a synonym for loss
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hands caught in the door
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and my face on the floor
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i'll write one for you
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<font size=1>Thanks to <b>Justin ([email protected])</b> for these lyrics</font>
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-----------------
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Rowing a Dead Horse
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| Kind Of Like Spitting |
