Ever since I came back from post mortem vacation
Becoming someone else, trapped in this old frame
The things I do to keep myself away
Trapped, torn, and gray
Picking myself up again
I think I’ve lost my vision and in my dreams my teeth
Two weeks wasting away the pain in these worn out sheets
Picking at the scabs I create myself
Packed with dried out leaves
Forever comforted by the demons that are haunting me
I’m walking tall against the wind with my eyes wide
Im walking tall against the wind nothing left inside
I think I’ve lost my vision and in my dreams my teeth
Two weeks of wasting away the pain in these worn out sheets
I thought I changed my ways
The stars no longer gaze
Forever on their own
Uncomfortable
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