| Storm |
|---|
| Breathing comes from the choking of the lungs |
| Breathing comes with a motion of the chest |
| It shows us your wilderness |
| Roosing black lips |
| Rooftops splitting up |
| I wrote it off long |
| I wrote it off softly |
| I wrote it off slow |
| I wrote it of softly |
| Who said |
| My lungs are full |
| My tongue is tired |
| My teeth are gone |
| My eyes are soft |
| I am a color of my own |
| Roosing black lips |
| Rooftops splitting up |
