most of us are heaving through
setting fire to our insides for fun
I have brittle bones it seems,
I bite my tongue and I torch my dreams
I have but little voice to speack with,
And a mind of thoughts and secrets
I scraped my knees while i was praying
I occupy myself poorly and end up falling apart to half time.
Can't take the kid from the fight? We don't fight fair.
He drives all over three lanes, you sit tight shotgun
Drop the meter we are playin' for an audience of One