this is not a voice
it’s a vehicle of starvation
my windpipe rotted through the floor
my face was wearing thin before
it’s hard to tell since nothing ever worked right anyway
it should be pretty clear from everything you hear that
one must need not know how to
sing to share a point of view
lucky to just make it through this far alive
there’s less and less on my chest wouldn’t trade the
world for any of this
wash the road off my clothes turn in my sore throat and
release me
you think it’s inside your skin forever
it’s ironic true catharsis comes with last ditch efforts
a scribbled message on the toilet when the strain
overtakes the ambition
it’s probably time to give it away
there’s less and less on my chest wouldn’t trade the
world for any of this
wash the road off my clothes turn in my sore throat and
release me
these eyes are seeing double
so maybe it’s time to pull over to the side of the road
and let it all go
there’s less and less on my chest wouldn’t trade the
world for any of this
wash the road off my clothes turn in my sore throat and
release me