We express the same things but with different words
We acknowledge the same curve and those might-have-heards
It's like the last line you draw to remind of the past time
A fast-winded feeling of freedom, pleased to be recognized
We express the same things but with different words
We acknowledge the same curve and those might-have-heards
It's like the last line you draw to remind of the past time
A fast-winded feeling of freedom, pleased to be recognized
By his independency and Achilles heel
Cause he armed himself with stealthy mass appeal
Where's my muse, where's my muse
It feels like every word slipping through my mouth has been used
Staggering like the old man feeding the dirt
With my glass eye reflecting all the things that I've learned
A windowless frame in a transparent room
Filling up cracks with plastic assumes
remix
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