A have a soft spot on my soul
It’s in grey monochrome
And when I’m sweating in my bed
It opens like a wound
And I feel like a child again
I remember going to sleep
And being angry at hearing those stories of injustice
I would make my blood boil
I wonder what kind of shell I was making
Let the cool wind blow thru the windows
With their healing scent of eucalypt
The healing is long, the wounds are deep
But one day
The world will be restored to health
And so will you
Apr 16
Apr 16, 2026 at 2:31 PM UTC
A have a soft spot on my soul
It’s in grey monochrome
And when I’m sweating in my bed
It opens like a wound
And I feel like a child again
I remember going to sleep
And being angry at hearing those stories of injustice
I would make my blood boil
I wonder what kind of shell I was making
Let the cool wind blow thru the windows
With their healing scent of eucalypt
The healing is long, the wounds are deep
But one day
The world will be restored to health
And so will you
