As a windchime swaying in his breeze

Tired of death on my tongue. feel the light fade

It's just words and nothing more I hold unwanted anger

Tell me what you know

Suffer with me against depreciated backgrounds Painted rust on a glintless horizon

Lost in scar tissue delusion I let the slack go, I want the catch to stop my neck

Ironic, ironic these methods. Just as American as everything else. This will have to hold itself together. Take pride in what you breed