It Came from the Nightosphere

I find that peace of mind is for those with no better way to spend their time

We bit the fruit, we tied the noose, we trod on our own hands
We're off the path, we ran too fast, in search of foreign lands

The world's gone cold, you've built your mold, fit everyone in tight
Make us the same, take all the blame, you'll make it all alright
Or so you say

There's no wind in our sails
On our search for this holy grail



Credits
Writer(s): Endless, Nameless
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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