| Could have made you crumple at my feet
|
| But I sold my health to slurry speech
|
| Sketching myself to be
|
| 'Cause grey is not a shade I want to be
|
| Seeking that sensitive head rush
|
| And I find myself another crutch
|
| Can’t seem to understand
|
| I am the smoke from my gun
|
| All the mistakes I’ve made
|
| Dragging my self-esteem
|
| Just pulling myself away
|
| From all the mould that grew inside of me
|
| Sleep in the mess I made
|
| Wake in the empty space
|
| Treading the open sea
|
| I got myself and that’s all that I need
|
| Speak slow, speak slow
|
| Still stuck in the free throw
|
| But it’s alright
|
| I should go
|
| But I stare out of windows
|
| When there’s nothing outside
|
| Wrestle the cracks under my skin
|
| Shaking the walls I’m buried in
|
| I’m up and down, I want the taste of what’s left in between
|
| These burnt and bound and broken wings
|
| Adjust my eyes and a subtle pinch
|
| I didn’t fight this hard to give in to the sting
|
| All the mistakes I’ve made
|
| Dragging my self-esteem
|
| Just pulling myself away
|
| From all the mould that grew inside of me
|
| Sleep in the mess I made
|
| Wake in the empty space
|
| Treading the open sea
|
| I got myself and that’s all that I need
|
| Speak slow, speak slow
|
| Still stuck in the free throw
|
| But it’s alright
|
| I should go
|
| But I stare out of windows
|
| When there’s nothing outside
|
| Woah, woah
|
| Woah, woah
|
| Woah, woah
|
| Woah, woah
|
| Give me somewhere to go
|
| They gave me vertigo
|
| Everything takes its toll
|
| Reaching outside my home
|
| Just to still feel alone
|
| Everything moves so slow
|
| Stuck in the free throw
|
| Speak slow, speak slow
|
| Still stuck in the free throw
|
| But it’s alright
|
| I should go
|
| But I stare out of windows
|
| When there’s nothing outside
|
| Speak slow, speak slow
|
| Still stuck in the free throw
|
| But it’s alright
|
| I should go
|
| But I stare out of windows
|
| When there’s nothing outside |