| There’s a darkness in the most well-lit room
|
| Even the brightest bulb needs to be held in place
|
| And fed by the energy we fight for, we fight for
|
| I am the radiator throwing heat
|
| And you’re the fire burning oil, this we need to stay warm
|
| Oh, the tales we tell are glorious
|
| Under the bed we sleep, under the dreams we dream
|
| The dust that fills our lungs
|
| Accumulates to the root of our body’s weakness
|
| We are what we believe in
|
| Blind by self depletion scared
|
| I got to dry my hands and bleach 'em all
|
| Find myself a reason not to cover up
|
| Oh, oh
|
| Oh, oh
|
| The court didn’t give me a chance to make my case
|
| Thrown out like old boxes, my words they sit wet in the rain
|
| Until they dissolve away just balling up like old paper
|
| Almost like litter to the side of the road until it no longer
|
| Can hold its shape, just crumble into the earth someday
|
| Becoming sand to remain that way forever
|
| Blind by self depletion scared
|
| I got to dry my hands and bleach 'em all
|
| Find myself a reason not to cover up
|
| Oh, oh
|
| Oh, oh
|
| Blind by self depletion scared
|
| I got to dry my hands and bleach 'em all
|
| Find myself a reason not to cover up
|
| Oh, oh
|
| Oh, oh |