Sophistry

I'm pacing the confines
Lost sight of every dusty clockface
Those moths chew
Through old suits
Lost track of old deadlines
Enjoying living at a snails pace
This blank year when we disappeared

Death rates
Wordplay
Hands, face and space
Outside
Riptides
Fuck with the marketplace
We'd be fine
Inside
Away from the blaze
Hands tied
Shanghaied
So that they can get paid



Credits
Writer(s): Conor Hicks
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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