[00:02.00] |
Young Guns - Stitches |
[00:07.00] |
|
[00:19.96] |
Every hour is a season |
[00:23.87] |
Every season* is a day |
[00:27.31] |
So I sit here picking stitches |
[00:31.02] |
'cos I find comfort in decay |
[00:34.62] |
How I long to fill my lungs |
[00:55.57] |
Tell me how does it feel to |
[01:00.98] |
Breathe air cold and clean |
[01:04.65] |
Cos I've been living on my knees |
[01:08.15] |
Since I was seventeen |
[01:10.62] |
Thought I was safe beneath the smoke |
[01:17.58] |
But even under cover I still choke |
[02:38.66][01:25.94] |
My wings are clipped but even if they weren't |
[02:46.06][01:33.22] |
I've not the guts to fly and leave behind the Earth |
[02:53.36][01:40.46] |
There's no poetry in my soul |
[02:57.09][01:44.12] |
Just a list of lies I've told |
[03:00.72][01:47.87] |
And I don't know how much longer I can hold on. |