Album: The Narrow Scope of Things
give a word of fragile optimism that this will be okay 
bore down on gluttonous hands, regurgitated thoughts from my heart 
this can only be the going under 
this can only be killing the me in me 
push and pull like the machines 
the humans anthems are dying in me 
i don't think a soul knows compromise like a soul mate 
it sleeps with me 
in my flesh i ask for a personal bleeding 
the holy ghost has word with me 
it comes in love, it comes with gentle hands that disinfect the sting for me 
a whole is filled without the ring 
instead a kiss, a kiss from the sun to try again
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