THE UNRELEASED Noise Of Time ( The Trip)

If got no soul it will not shine It s only mold but looks so fine Eternal crunch inside the veins Blood on the sponge will not remain Hard wind blows all the time Feet get tired, hair burn out If you re calm sure, you died And your shell is worn out Given trend it s hard to mend I can pretend that feel the land It s perfect chance to have friends Time like the sand, I like the sand