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Goodtime Boys - Sleep



A complex product of the age
Eyes loses focus with bowels weak
I cannot stomach all of these lies
Each and every cliche i speak
I am left weightless, lacking a mooring
No anchor forged to condemn, me to the ground
I am left weightless, lacking a mooring
Nothing can hold me down, into the ground
Swollen
I'm swollen
Swollen with ego
Swollen with time
With mother's blurry words
And the slogans that litter my mind
And as I stare, through painted faces into your bleached out cheeks
Forget your name, forget a face
Boundaries pale to memory as we embrace
Try to remember nothing has changed
Here in these arms, this is my home
Here in these arms, all that I have
Here in these arms, I sleep