plagued with an imagination in a land of dream destruction | |
pavement running true north and south, inundated in self doubt. | |
when you were young, the unfamiliar could’ve been anything | |
but as you grow older, you realize it’s all the same fucking thing. | |
block after block after block | |
grid after grid after grid | |
lines leading to nowhere and nothing. | |
life is nothing but comfortable in the populated no-man's-land | |
flashing lights stain the suburban sky and god lives and dies inside crushed coke cans. | |
coming home from a crowded church to an empty house with an empty head | |
lying in your bed in peace and quiet but still afraid of death. | |
I’ll start letting my chest rust out in an effort to make myself lighter | |
I am mine if I want me to be and that’s all I need. |
plagued with an imagination in a land of dream destruction | |
pavement running true north and south, inundated in self doubt. | |
when you were young, the unfamiliar could' ve been anything | |
but as you grow older, you realize it' s all the same fucking thing. | |
block after block after block | |
grid after grid after grid | |
lines leading to nowhere and nothing. | |
life is nothing but comfortable in the populated noman' sland | |
flashing lights stain the suburban sky and god lives and dies inside crushed coke cans. | |
coming home from a crowded church to an empty house with an empty head | |
lying in your bed in peace and quiet but still afraid of death. | |
I' ll start letting my chest rust out in an effort to make myself lighter | |
I am mine if I want me to be and that' s all I need. |
plagued with an imagination in a land of dream destruction | |
pavement running true north and south, inundated in self doubt. | |
when you were young, the unfamiliar could' ve been anything | |
but as you grow older, you realize it' s all the same fucking thing. | |
block after block after block | |
grid after grid after grid | |
lines leading to nowhere and nothing. | |
life is nothing but comfortable in the populated noman' sland | |
flashing lights stain the suburban sky and god lives and dies inside crushed coke cans. | |
coming home from a crowded church to an empty house with an empty head | |
lying in your bed in peace and quiet but still afraid of death. | |
I' ll start letting my chest rust out in an effort to make myself lighter | |
I am mine if I want me to be and that' s all I need. |