Porcelain

There's still some days where I condescend my head
A repeated subside, it's worth remembering

I'm stuck to your skin, that sinking feeling
As I go back, I wish I could make you fly

Counting days until disaster
Counting days until disaster

Can you see it underneath?
Are you grinding down your teeth?

Spiral fractured
It's forming in porcelain
Sick mental, I fall in
In through your bones
It's cut to bone

(That sinking feeling)
That I regret
Inner sense
Lose the ceiling

Can you see it underneath?
Are you grinding down your teeth? (Oh)

Spiral fractured
It's forming in porcelain

Sick mental, it's forming
Between your bones, it's cut to bone

Porcelain, porcelain
Porcelain, porcelain