Текст песни 36 Crazyfists Old Gold

Holding onto sickness, kept me tied to the road of old
What was once a hand faith turned to rust from gold
Weakening position where I place my eyes alone
There is a loss all around, there is birth again I know

Pull me out of the dirt, let the light cleanse me
Second chances were meant to divide
The death of our woes, of our woes...

I'm surfacing again let the light come clean my bones
From the ice and snow below, buried deep in hope...

Violence, the color outweighs lines of magnitude
Where a cold brush with death makes it hard enough to chew
Poisonous, the bottle that takes shape in solitude
Where the numbing outlives hell until the ends just come unglued...

Empty the tank, leave it all on the floor
Better to breathe in the sinking of the coast
Inside the throes, inside the throes of the bend...

Clean my bones

Текст добавил Jetboy 30.11.2017 23:46

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