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The sharp nervous stab as you ask someone how do you do,
the feeling of you reeling yourself into something new.
you start to ask yourself did I do something wrong?
Because there they are long from where you belong.
just stand there in the middle of the hall,
feeling as if you are just a tag along.
stand there and feel the soles of your shoes.
Digging deep and deep down and wondering what question to choose.
Your palms get sweaty as you think to they don’t like me already.
The embarrassment starter to feel like you being the murderer with a machete
Oh the smell of faint blood and the taste of your own tongue and that curse of being a dud will bother you for eons
Leaving your head in a flood.
The anxiousness and doubt when you first meet someone.
The anxiousness and doubt when you first meet someone.
The sharp nervous stab as you ask someone how do you do,
the feeling of you reeling yourself into something new.
you start to ask yourself did I do something wrong?
Because there they are long from where you belong.
just stand there in the middle of the hall,
feeling as if you are just a tag along.
stand there and feel the soles of your shoes.
Digging deep and deep down and wondering what question to choose.
Your palms get sweaty as you think to they don’t like me already.
The embarrassment starter to feel like you being the murderer with a machete
Oh the smell of faint blood and the taste of your own tongue and that curse of being a dud will bother you for eons
Leaving your head in a flood.
The sharp nervous stab as you ask someone how do you do,
the feeling of you reeling yourself into something new.
you start to ask yourself did I do something wrong?
Because there they are long from where you belong.
just stand there in the middle of the hall,
feeling as if you are just a tag along.
stand there and feel the soles of your shoes.
Digging deep and deep down and wondering what question to choose.
Your palms get sweaty as you think to they don’t like me already.
The embarrassment starter to feel like you being the murderer with a machete
Oh the smell of faint blood and the taste of your own tongue and that curse of being a dud will bother you for eons
Leaving your head in a flood.
the feeling of you reeling yourself into something new.
you start to ask yourself did I do something wrong?
Because there they are long from where you belong.
just stand there in the middle of the hall,
feeling as if you are just a tag along.
stand there and feel the soles of your shoes.
Digging deep and deep down and wondering what question to choose.
Your palms get sweaty as you think to they don’t like me already.
The embarrassment starter to feel like you being the murderer with a machete
Oh the smell of faint blood and the taste of your own tongue and that curse of being a dud will bother you for eons
Leaving your head in a flood.
The sharp nervous stab as you ask someone how do you do,
the feeling of you reeling yourself into something new.
you start to ask yourself did I do something wrong?
Because there they are long from where you belong.
just stand there in the middle of the hall,
feeling as if you are just a tag along.
stand there and feel the soles of your shoes.
Digging deep and deep down and wondering what question to choose.
Your palms get sweaty as you think to they don’t like me already.
The embarrassment starter to feel like you being the murderer with a machete
Oh the smell of faint blood and the taste of your own tongue and that curse of being a dud will bother you for eons
Leaving your head in a flood.
The sharp nervous stab as you ask someone how do you do,
the feeling of you reeling yourself into something new.
you start to ask yourself did I do something wrong?
Because there they are long from where you belong.
just stand there in the middle of the hall,
feeling as if you are just a tag along.
stand there and feel the soles of your shoes.
Digging deep and deep down and wondering what question to choose.
Your palms get sweaty as you think to they don’t like me already.
The embarrassment starter to feel like you being the murderer with a machete
Oh the smell of faint blood and the taste of your own tongue and that curse of being a dud will bother you for eons
Leaving your head in a flood.
The sharp nervous stab as you ask someone how do you do,
the feeling of you reeling yourself into something new.
you start to ask yourself did I do something wrong?
Because there they are long from where you belong.
just stand there in the middle of the hall,
feeling as if you are just a tag along.
stand there and feel the soles of your shoes.
Digging deep and deep down and wondering what question to choose.
Your palms get sweaty as you think to they don’t like me already.
The embarrassment starter to feel like you being the murderer with a machete
Oh the smell of faint blood and the taste of your own tongue and that curse of being a dud will bother you for eons
Leaving your head in a flood.
the feeling of you reeling yourself into something new.
you start to ask yourself did I do something wrong?
Because there they are long from where you belong.
just stand there in the middle of the hall,
feeling as if you are just a tag along.
stand there and feel the soles of your shoes.
Digging deep and deep down and wondering what question to choose.
Your palms get sweaty as you think to they don’t like me already.
The embarrassment starter to feel like you being the murderer with a machete
Oh the smell of faint blood and the taste of your own tongue and that curse of being a dud will bother you for eons
Leaving your head in a flood.
Moving places with, ‘sentimental love’.
Moving places with, ‘sentimental love’.
Memories are gold,
They may be bold,
Or even cold,
Some cannot be told,
Wherever you go you may hold
Your memories that will always be gold.
They may be bold,
Or even cold,
Some cannot be told,
Wherever you go you may hold
Your memories that will always be gold.
Memories are gold,
They may be bold,
Or even cold,
Some cannot be told,
Wherever you go you may hold
Your memories that will always be gold.
The feeling of knowing when light is coming.
The feeling of knowing when light is coming.
The Sun scorching like fresh coffee,
my skin sticking to the seat like salt water toffee,
I look above and see behold,
a ball of flame that has always flowed.