| Gold chains and my body’s given up.
|
| I’d fight. |
| I’d fight but the moves might be stifling
|
| My arms. |
| My arms get light with the rest of me.
|
| MY keys. |
| My keys are ready.
|
| Bury me, I’m sure you will.
|
| I can’t come clean, with what I’m sayin.
|
| The struggles on my feet implode.
|
| The taste of blood is something else to think about,
|
| But after all my keys are ready.
|
| Too old. |
| Too old to pretend we’re 17.
|
| Not me. |
| Why mean, well the youth is a hindrance.
|
| I roll my role. |
| my role. |
| my role.
|
| And it might keep me in this bind,
|
| I’ll never find. |
| Worlds behind me.
|
| Bury me, I’m sure you will.
|
| I can’t come clean, with what Im sayin.
|
| The struggles on my feet implode.
|
| The taste of blood is something else to think about,
|
| But after all my keys are ready.
|
| Ice cold. |
| Ice cold and your shadow’s swallowing me.
|
| I breath… so clean.
|
| My throat. |
| My throat. |
| My throat. |
| my throat.
|
| And thought of clearing it. |
| And now I sit.
|
| And it’s over and…
|
| Bury me, I’m sure you will.
|
| I can’t come clean with what I’m sayin.
|
| The struggles on my feet implode.
|
| The taste of blood is something else to think about
|
| But after all my keys ready.
|
| The struggles on my feet implode.
|
| The taste of blood is something else to think about,
|
| But after all my keys ready. |