Break the fingers of the hands that dealt. Pull off the
nails, make sure it felt the grief and the pain of being
stuck here in misery lane. Call us stubborn, call us closer
to death. Yet don"t we all retch at our nicotine breath?
The violence in our heads never seemed to discharge the
questioning. With both feet on the ground, we keep the
gods where they can be found: nowhere.
nails, make sure it felt the grief and the pain of being
stuck here in misery lane. Call us stubborn, call us closer
to death. Yet don"t we all retch at our nicotine breath?
The violence in our heads never seemed to discharge the
questioning. With both feet on the ground, we keep the
gods where they can be found: nowhere.