Sleep In Sundays - Hamartia | Текст песни

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• Sleep In Sundays
• Hamartia

These eyes are glazed, the fix is made, I feel so far from being saved. There's smoke in your backseat and there's fire in your eyes. Inside rots a new soul, begging to be exorcised.

And I feel so far from myself, smoking out every piece of what I knew. And I've been plotting out my way to hang out this hollow body. Don't you try and stop me now.

My desire to conform--I'm just trying to be normal. This is nothing, I just don't want to be alone.

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