Cut away the corners, nice and trim.
Keep the lines straight, keep the skyline distant.
Welcome to the future, as you drive past.
Center of the hustle and panic.
Hubs of steel glisten in the sun's affection.
Gracing the land of a better prospect.
But only hold illusions of a false promise.
The warmth of cold hearts can only rot.
Yet we can only trudge along to the new day.
Until I can be free again, back to nothingness.
My love will return, my soul will sigh.
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 2:31 AM UTC
Cut away the corners, nice and trim.
Keep the lines straight, keep the skyline distant.
Welcome to the future, as you drive past.
Center of the hustle and panic.
Hubs of steel glisten in the sun's affection.
Gracing the land of a better prospect.
But only hold illusions of a false promise.
The warmth of cold hearts can only rot.
Yet we can only trudge along to the new day.
Until I can be free again, back to nothingness.
My love will return, my soul will sigh.
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