bluedog music with my vocals
suppress the mess that is my life
a love of systematic reprise
demean defeat the seat I can't fill with the skin i'm in
but death kinda makes us all the same
death kinda makes us all
I have a quota on the maps
I can give out so figure out and shout the clouds
away from my eclipse it took a dip and grazed
across the earth in fields of Grey
a night away from yesterday
a rolling ball of light without the aid of sight
without a sense of fight
without a chest so tight
without a cold sweat line
without a shiver I'm just fine
is this a bad time?