I'm born to graft
No relationship no flag at mast
Work down to dust, dedication in nothing
No outer thinking
The right way to burn both ends
Faith in job, faith in man
Fold and return, just say the word
Now I'm standing left
No connection to the inner line
It's just death in my head, beyond the veil again
The right way to hate your friends
Faithless job
Broken mends
Break down and burn
Just say the word
Low ceiling, come crush me
