So put your faith in more than steal, don't store them up with moths and dust
My heart is dead weight.
Cold steel in hands slowly turning frigid.
Frost bitten nails and nerves
We're struggling to keep our heads above water where the
Air we breath is fake
And after when we like to say we take
Others to the point that hearts we break
Are no more than collections in a journal
Pressing leaves in a binder in fall
Is where our truth becomes metaphor
and our shaking legs begin to sturdy up
If we hurry this then I guess I can bury all
By and large I
See more of myself in the mirror
Ever since I gave up on hope I'm feeling much better
Instead of the image we're the breath on the glass
I guess I'm marching on dust
And kicking up a storm from my heels
Hiding in these clouds and abandoning what I feel.
Cold steel in hands slowly turning frigid.
Frost bitten nails and nerves
We're struggling to keep our heads above water where the
Air we breath is fake
And after when we like to say we take
Others to the point that hearts we break
Are no more than collections in a journal
Pressing leaves in a binder in fall
Is where our truth becomes metaphor
and our shaking legs begin to sturdy up
If we hurry this then I guess I can bury all
By and large I
See more of myself in the mirror
Ever since I gave up on hope I'm feeling much better
Instead of the image we're the breath on the glass
I guess I'm marching on dust
And kicking up a storm from my heels
Hiding in these clouds and abandoning what I feel.