The edges of each day
The edges of each day
Are drawn by muted words
Stuck in throats and blank pieces of paper.
I feel one dislodge,
Blur,
Distort
And the shape of your disguise
Disintegrates.
The edges of each day
Are drawn by muted words
Stuck in throats and blank pieces of paper.
I feel one dislodge,
Blur,
Distort
And the shape of your disguise
Disintegrates.