After The Burial Your Troubles Will Cease And Fortune Will Smile Upon You
When I return, I dream of another life, Failure transparent in the palm of my hand. I am the contortionist, we are the contortionists. I can feel this distance is further and further without you. Contorting to fit, somewhere I do not belong. Brick by brick, stone on top of stone, I create, from these towers, built of nothingness. I will fall, and like these worthless feelings, There is an emptiness we long to feel inside. Father when will you come home. I have been dying inside. Mother where have you gone, Oh so how hard I ve been trying. When I return, I dream of another life, Failure transparent in the palm of my hand. I am the contortionist, we are the contortionists. Hours upon hours, I am fucking sleepless. We are the wretched, no sleep for the wicked. And at night we come undone. We are anything, we are the contortionists. This is not who I ever was. This is not who I ever was. x2 We are the worthless feelings, we are the great divide. We are the emptiness we long to feel inside.
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