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Prospects - Swarm of Flies | Текст песни

Always steering yourself
Towards a dim bulb
In a dead world
Feeding on the negativity

Everything that builds up
Makes me a worse person

I'd trade it all away
For a sense of clarity
That I won't leave this world
In a bag

With flies feeding on my head

There's a hole in my brain
From every lie you fed to me
From every moment
You spent with me

This world hungers
For death and despair
Your pain is noted
Everyday will just get worse

What's the point
In fighting for what is right?

Every single day
Life aims to make you hurt

Life makes you hurt

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