Asunder

Poor player's tricks are falling out of necessity
For I can hear him stalling, to satisfy his greed
He wants you all to realize, he's got it all worked out
Empty thoughts come tumbling out of his crooked mouth

That's what I expect from a no name bastard son
The kind whose speech makes conversations come undone
You'd never feel like there's anything wrong with you
You know that it's the truth

He strangles thoughts to figure out
Which lesson he should preach when in doubt
When he don't know what to say
He finds words to fill the blanks in every way



Credits
Writer(s): Carl Giannelli
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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