Текст песни 36 Crazyfists Better To Burn

I tried to cover what mattered most, endless dose from my own ghost
Holy wind blowing right on in...

Things I should've been
Coldness of night
Inside winter's sleep
Disturbing what's right

Better to burn, better to leave it all in the dirt
Wounds that mend, throwing caution to the wind...

To the wind of the settled signs, on the end of the losing kind
In that voice it bleeds again, shadow's luck to remind my wins

Fill my lungs with summer's rain
Designs of my escape through the endless drain
Where I'd rather lose myself to the ocean's waves
And swallow the tears of the sun

Death's one last claim...