i wasnt born
i just woke up
in a town of filthy feathers
it is supposed to be a sunny day
but the skies are grey
i got a bottle of wheezed red wine
from a man of beneath the aerial
he spoke of fomine beings and
electric fields
in the past it all felt so alive
now it breeds from oily waters
deep angel pallatine eyes
a piece of me that
couldnt fit the zine
we met the man who built the mothership
he was shackled by his fans
if here i was a block of clay
i would have cast a shade for you
if i he vi als of passageways
i would have let you through
theres
something
this place
it drives
me insane
its reel in the clouds
make me a pay for
my wings
have fallen apart
do you have the say
to fill it out
nothing in
i am hypnotized
weaker
and weaker
watch out for the beings
coming

ENVIAR CORREÇÕES