Linguist Saints

Pirate all my motives from the dull
Tailor everything I know and love
The linguist saints might give their hope
To battle devils in my bones
But where can I go now
And I write and sell a story well
Uncaptivated in my tells
No one will see or smell the scent
All blinded to secret laments my god
I'm all ghost
I'm alive, so I'm told
But I'm not gold
So tyrant of the low life calm me down
Lift the veil with crisis in the red
Tanking fists into uncultured hands
Collared until the day I'm dead
Oh no, I'm all soul
I'm alive, so I'm told
But I'm not gold



Credits
Writer(s): Aaron Schmidt
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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