Twelve Tribes

Flight Of The Pathogen

6:10

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Текст песни Flight Of The Pathogen

I walk
Inside a facelift
Made of conflict
The contents defeat the purpose
Because I live outside
A makeshift heart
It was always red plastic and cold
You've got to know your place in this...
I stick to the basic: intellect, substance, ambiance
With no poetry in my existence stuck going nowhere fast
I'm consciously falling out of love with myself
And the world with myself and my soul
I'm living for just one moment to die alone
You've got to know your place in this world
Your life won't disappear when your eyes are closed

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