Hope for Bickle

So who weeps downstairs
For the man in his oak snares?
Seeds sown centuries ago
The patient wake of his ego

Leave your dingy flat for home stately

I know you're trying to hate me
I know you can't berate me
You've been a soldier lately
You've been a soldier lately

You reach your arm into the mist
You flesh attacked by loneliness
In times still you feel warmth on palm
It hits your brow it makes you calm

You welcome your savior will full heft

You pull yourself to your breast
You help yourself in your best
You hold yourself to your breath
You hold yourself with your breath
Ooo



Credits
Writer(s): Liam Wilkinson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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