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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
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