Whelming

Plow deep - awaken, sleeping sluggards
Extend a sick arm to the things that you want
A chest inflated with false drive
Will only draw phymatic breaths
In silence

Laid here still I await the trumpets of an end, so dear
A judgement which safely I can say, got everything right
We might've not tried our best, our best always comes next year
We're insane to believe that in our tent we can't be touched



Credits
Writer(s): Kostas Grammadas, Hoi-poi Farplane Wind
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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