The Dry the Desolate

They lock me in this room
To find my strength
I can't admit I'm bested
My mind is rusted
I can't ungrip my teeth and
I'm trying
She's plotting
I'm running
She'll catch me

My mind is invested in
A campaign of hatred
Direct it by myself I
I storm my own keep and
I raped what little soul I
Had left to
Disperse of
That dim light
Has got to go out

Can you hear it?
The same old
The same old whispers that I
Hear
The same old whispers that I
Hear
The same old whispers that I
Hear
The same old whispers that I
Hear
The same old whispers that I hear



Credits
Writer(s): Sean Grimes
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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