Continues after the ad

    Who am I
    I listen to cars go by
    Remembering that time
    I was part of that eager flight
    But now I just look through blinds

    In my house
    Down the street
    On the block
    In the city

    I'm just in my house
    Down the street
    On the block

    For no one hears a thing
    We bite our tongues until they bleed
    Silently concave forms
    Spread across concrete floors
    And sigh with no relief

    Who am I
    I don't want the answer sometimes
    Remembering my mind
    Before it feared everyday life
    And how it shows through my eyes

    Continues after the ad

    In my house
    Down the street
    On the block
    In the city

    I'm just in my fucking house
    Down the street
    No one wants to hear me scream

    No one wants to hear a God damn thing
    So I bite our tongues until they bleed
    Silently my concave form
    Spreads across concrete floors
    And sighs with no relief

    Unraveling; one thread that holds the seams
    My tar soaked lungs that can barely breathe
    Flushed cheeks; rapid nerve endings
    Oh, clench the fists and pound
    Till everything falls down

    Hide your face until your muscles tense and quake
    Someone release me from this God damn state
    But they never really believe me anyway

    Oh, is this real?
    Oh no, no, no
    Oh, is this real this thing you feel
    Oh no, no, no

    Oh, is this real
    Oh no, no, no
    Oh, is this real, this pain you say you feel
    Oh no

    In the house
    Down the street

    For no one hears a thing
    So we bite our tongues until they bleed
    Silently my concave form
    Spreads across concrete floors
    And sigh with no relief

    Song details

    Composition: Irene Wilde

    Did you see an error?

    Enviar revisão