Tekster: Cave-In. Juggernaut.

Old places fade hard, and no matter how long you row upstreamm
the water still makes waves that carry the rest of us away.
You are what you weep, from your head down to the sleet.
Fell, tripped up the stairs to the place void in all ints of home.
Watch with your heart, run with your gut,
ever so careful not to lose the fragile beauties of motivation.
A whir of warning winds signal back to birth.
Watch with your heart, run with your gut,
ever so careful not to loseyour mold.
"They laughed all to the untrusive music,
they danced hard enough to wake from a fiction-based nap,
they killed me when i could't be a source of entertainment,
strung like a puppet to every degree of debt.
in social contribution by the migraine."
Our fight keeps using a voice taht needs rekindling.

I promised wet weather to myself.
From the moment i set foot into my own autopsy.
Past all the summer,
beyond the urine-stenched conglomerates of those wthout a set of eyes to make contact with.
"There is but the utter of all necessaries,
pushing ones that brimming light through the dregs of apartment life.
A necessity that leaves me short of breathe in the end.
Watch with your heart, run with your gut.
Primate winds blow me back to old bloodstreams.