Jean Moreas

Tired of using my head
Trying to prove there's a meaning
Feeling the weight of the bed
Can't tell the floor from the ceiling

Teachers were waiting for me
Parents were dimming the windows
How could I make them all leave?
Thinking they all had their reasons

Killing my pride was the game
Left like a flower to wither
Feeling the world and the weight
Can't tell the waking from dreaming



Credits
Writer(s): Joseph Powell
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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