Idle Hands
I made my
Landfills into mountains I can't climb
I let my eyes and my hands speak
Louder than my mind
I am trapped
Surrounded by my vices
And as I scream for solace
My demons raise their glasses
Everyday I'm born again
Into an ever changing mess
Regurgitation of the light that blinds
The eyes of better men
I made my
Landfills into mountains I can't climb
I let my eyes and my hands speak
Louder than my mind
I built my church out of regret
Where I scream my prayers with every breath
I built a steeple for the world to see
This is not who i want to be
Cover death with sweet perfume
I am a whitewashed tomb
Cover death with sweet perfume
I am a whitewashed tomb
Autor(es): Zachary Morin, Timothy Franklin III Lawrence, Seth Alexander Bickel, Samuel Picciuto, Jacob Flores
