Agony on Demand

We lock eyes, though we've no sight, averting our buried pasts
Spent my sense before I flew too fast
Stained glass, half-empty
Sobered by rhythmic reality
Scan my mind for selfish longing
But I'll blend, almost desirable
Call me a local
And I'll hemorrhage my past
Yeah, distance is sarcastic
I can't shake you, mental or physical
Upright and crimson
Bathed in a jazz of distraction
Praising miles I hoped to separate me from myself
I should feel sick, so drawn to harm, but I
I'm safe attempting sleep in my car, in my car
Might as well scroll away sojourn, counting the moments to weakness
Can't replace this feeling
Can't displace my body
Time won't pour you out my mind
This isn't holiday, it's agony on demand



Credits
Writer(s): Josh Truman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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