feel the rush of the day as it breaks against our backs
feel the brush of a hand as we close our eyes and relax

feel the trembles and the shutters of a sob
feel what resembles the pain of a hearts throb

feel the eyes which burn holes through your skin
feel the ties which bind all to there sin

feel the hate that controls, it is what you rue
feel the weight of the mold, that is what you do

feel the weight of you.