Written by: ALEX FUENTES
I am feeble, tower of bones
One swift and dust to grace acroos these shores
Grace across these
Retract, rewind to build a fort
To build a fort
But increments are addictive
A trades of sort
To be wanting more
But increments are addictive
Take a drill to a triangle
But swords do these fights
So we argue whta’s right
When morals take their flight
When one day faith is like a language
When swords do these fights
When swords do these fights
But increments are addictive
He whispers praise of existence
This flesh to please
This flesh to hold
An empty pocket
With open hands
But increments are addictive
He whispers praise of existence
This flesh to please
This flesh to hold
An empty pocket
With open hands
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