| Song | Plagued |
| Artist | With Life In Mind |
| Album | Grievances |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| How do we save ourselves from this misery | |
| That we've plagued our lives with. | |
| And we've plagued ourselves. | |
| So desperate for the answers, we search for a reason to survive. | |
| We spend our days staring at the sun, | |
| Only to be blinded by the mere thought. | |
| Encouraged; enraged by what has held us down. | |
| We’re straining on the last bit of hope we have left. | |
| No one hears our cries. | |
| And no one sees us screaming. | |
| Beating out our lungs. | |
| We are the forgotten. | |
| Our minds have starved from this constant fight to find solid ground. | |
| To be something more than what's placed in our hands. | |
| Struggling to find the means to build ourselves back up. | |
| With every odd stacked against us, we walk as men through a sea of giants. |
| How do we save ourselves from this misery | |
| That we' ve plagued our lives with. | |
| And we' ve plagued ourselves. | |
| So desperate for the answers, we search for a reason to survive. | |
| We spend our days staring at the sun, | |
| Only to be blinded by the mere thought. | |
| Encouraged enraged by what has held us down. | |
| We' re straining on the last bit of hope we have left. | |
| No one hears our cries. | |
| And no one sees us screaming. | |
| Beating out our lungs. | |
| We are the forgotten. | |
| Our minds have starved from this constant fight to find solid ground. | |
| To be something more than what' s placed in our hands. | |
| Struggling to find the means to build ourselves back up. | |
| With every odd stacked against us, we walk as men through a sea of giants. |
| How do we save ourselves from this misery | |
| That we' ve plagued our lives with. | |
| And we' ve plagued ourselves. | |
| So desperate for the answers, we search for a reason to survive. | |
| We spend our days staring at the sun, | |
| Only to be blinded by the mere thought. | |
| Encouraged enraged by what has held us down. | |
| We' re straining on the last bit of hope we have left. | |
| No one hears our cries. | |
| And no one sees us screaming. | |
| Beating out our lungs. | |
| We are the forgotten. | |
| Our minds have starved from this constant fight to find solid ground. | |
| To be something more than what' s placed in our hands. | |
| Struggling to find the means to build ourselves back up. | |
| With every odd stacked against us, we walk as men through a sea of giants. |