Tekster: Chicosci. A Habit Of Rest Brings Nothing.

Always tied down
Endure wasted breath
I see the outside
A lack of strength
Mind is stale
My eyes are sore
The light is on
I can?t anymore

Of all times
Of all times
To fall down
Of all times
To resort to nothing
All the time

I fall again

I taste my words
I?m bending over backwards
Go beyond the walls
My primary function
I don?t want this silence
All motivation is gone

I can go beyond this
It should be so easy
For me to rise above
I can go beyond this
I found
A method of breathing