lyrics
What is it truly that we are trying to create?
Something lasting?
Something true?
Or is it something that will fade with our youth?
If that's the case I’m sorry but i cant help feeling blue
Struggling with the edges of matter I find myself
What's real, what's fiction, who fucking cares?
I just want to hold it all into my hands,
make it become manifest.
Find a reason among these empty pens
Turn scraps of paper into
A remedy for darker days
These countless hours
into something more than just a cheesy catchphrase.
credits
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