i'm not waving, i'm drowning.
don't let your dreamers
grow up to be dead men
drown us at birth,
save her some time.
my head aches and it pains me to medicate it
but until i learn to brave the road alone i'll stay dedicated
if my bed is made with an audience in mind
it'll most likely fight me off with the fists of time
i don't miss the finer things in life anymore
designer rings were just knives, ready for the kill
ready for the score, how many whore their skill?
how many warm their soul with the will of an author?
