8 acessos
These wheels are turning in my head to slowly go where i'd rather be instead
Laying low
Skin and bones we know, made of stone move slow
These are the days fear takes its hold around my throat
Lost is the chase
Giving in to distance left to go to make it home
This heart is bleeding in my chest from letting go
I just can't stop from needing hope in a better place
Instead somewhere to grow
I wish we could start leaving
Hands and feet won't move
All these things we'll lose