On Grass, On Grass

Sports

Compositor: Não Disponível

I'm sitting on the edge
Of every word you've said
My mind will wander on
The excuse is growing long

So while I think and recover
My heart still grows fonder

I've fallen into this sleep
That keeps me down on my luck
So I can hardly wake myself
I can never awake myself
I can never account for anything

I need a good excuse
To replay the scenes inside my head
But I'm so fucking sick of it
I'm tired of trying to sleep
While all that I can see is your
Ghostly complexion, your lack of intellection
You're the scabs on my knees
You're just a fucking disease

But you're all that I can think about
But you're all that I can think about

You're all I can think about

I've fallen into this sleep
That keeps me down on my luck
So I can hardly wake myself
I can never awake myself
I can never account for anything