Enduser - Your Drawing (Alternate Version) | Текст песни

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• Enduser
• Your Drawing (Alternate Version)

essentially the best of me is wrestling in ecstasy with the rest of me. which intentionally represses the blessing to the extent of detested resentment. its a testiment of the fleshes sixth sense in perpensity for unrelenting destruction. and i wonder will i survive or will i be rent asunder. crumbling undone thunder unraveling battling demons till im beaten down reasonless. and the reason im feeling like speaking this thesis is weakness. that leads my soul out to hold out till you turn blue. its worth it to deserve this wicked honesty. honestly you gotta be wanting the drama to even start this with me. weaving through and fingering the realness with immunity. i enter at my own risk knowing it isnt brightest idea but desire overides all of the thoughts and the hot of your drawing unlocks me. you are just hands and knowing this neither harms nor warms me bears terrible precious little significance in this particular instance. you are the leaf flipped around the windshield wiper of my existance and i i am accelerating. you wrap over ever harder wiggling in the wind holding on for dear life. you are just hands you are the ten thousand things on every inch of me and i am thinking about each of you. i am reeling backward rattling your ammo. and possibly my body responds automatic unconciously. when the hot of your drawing unlocks me. and the plot of this haunting will stop me. when the hot of your drawing unlocks me. the wonder reclines what mocks me leaving me responsible for a constant opening unfolding of urgency. lay myself down on the alter. play my part in the legacy. i am mute i am chemical i am contentious circles looping through each other. little deaths in both directions i am silently rising in spite of myself i am a first prize science project i am the picture of health i am stimulate and response on display i am as natural as the day is long as predictable as kittens right as rain and sunrise overcome by pleasure delectable edging ubearable tear at your own hair forget to exhale you are just hands and knowing this neither harms nor warms me bears terrible precious little significance in this particular instance you are the leaf flipped around the windshield wiper of my existence and i i am accelerating.