| The time of our lives
|
| As people we shine
|
| And the sun will never rise again
|
| Washin' my
|
| Dirty linens
|
| Penicillin that be in 'em
|
| Dried acrylic mono chromatics
|
| And badly, woven tactics
|
| Hard battles won
|
| But we lost ground son
|
| Now we back at one
|
| In these homely trenches
|
| With foul stenches, we fight
|
| For inches near something
|
| To hold onto but
|
| I’ve been fighting for so long
|
| I dunno where to go onto
|
| A clung hard to someone
|
| Who could to tell me better than no one
|
| Who i was and where i came from
|
| What i knew and if the sky
|
| Was really blue
|
| The river flows yet no one knows
|
| Where it goes
|
| The time of our Lives
|
| As people we Shine
|
| And the Sun will never Rise
|
| Again
|
| Shitty days make for some
|
| Shitty nights the blackest lights
|
| The saddest sights
|
| Sad memories still seein' em vividly
|
| Wickedly the sky’s so empty
|
| Not a drop of cloud hoping to come down
|
| In the form of liquid admiration
|
| Rain cleansing my blasphemy passively
|
| Passionately kissing
|
| Fertile ground and its apple seeds
|
| Reality, ain’t nothin to me
|
| Nothin more than some fallacy
|
| My calloused feet become jaggedy
|
| Head more raggedy
|
| No song speak tragedy
|
| Without a tiny little shimmer of hope
|
| Oh wait, there it goes
|
| The time of our lives
|
| As people we shine
|
| And the sun will never Rise
|
| Again
|
| The World is made of paper it’s a paper bag jar
|
| Got two eyes that are fulla demons and it’s
|
| Heavy on my soul |