Bunkers Are Made For Cowards

Throw!
Into classic term conceal the sunrise
The bright side and the probable muse
With the variables of our integral washing
Glide!
I announce that we surpass this conscience
Slow big time! Darkroom saves your name

Stir by the light, concussion beneath
Bring backs the life
Allow me to speak, numbness relieved
Betrayals of wine
Old portraits of fire, remember disease
Communion and saints
With the balance of infringement

Rub your knees and paint the room
With all black and white
Lying through your pleasure with
Circus to find
With all martyrs down the road
Transparency

Chronic and versatile so as the night
Reputation surviving
Mortification, an endless series

Collapsing process of the youth without the nation's consent
Not all the people with hands are normal
The paradox is vibrating, it continues to snap and sober
Not all the people with hands are normal

Born to be fair
Died because of fame

Armbands and hey hey hey, I ain't supposed to be here
Because I'm all alone
Don't be subjective now you ain't supposed to be here
Because you're all alone



Credits
Writer(s): Troy Bartolome
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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