Volacho

(Music coming soon…)

I’m a gun in your mouth
Got a taste for it now
Just a taste

Feed the motions, play the script
Go from waste to savour to plain get rid of it
Start again

Sign the hole and hide your head
Till the guilt lies cold and dead
Way too tired to find a rhyme
And it’s only half past nine

And this damn days done
And my weakness won
Draw the blinds way down
Till the sleep takes over

And I’ll charge my day
Till I get my change
From the part I paid
In advance I’ll pay you back in time

Hold aloft your descending pride
As you know you might
Lose your grip and try

To review your faith entirely
As your common sense has retired
And the plates keep spinning every night
Chorus a wretched and crashing sound

 

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