Manners - Solitary | Текст песни

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• Manners
• Solitary

Its much later than you think
Time is running out
The clock winds down to nothing
The sound
The sound.
An early chill swept over our coastline
Bringing ice and rain and sleet and snow
Im foreign living in a place I don’t even know
But eventually it dawned on me
Ive been here so many times before
Ive been trapped here for hundreds of years
I can hear every fucking footstep
I can taste every whisper
And every dying wish
And every dying wish
from the kids who died young from the stress of growing up too quick
why me? Why me? I went to church every fucking Sunday
why me? why me? I went to church every fucking sunday
From my lips to god’s ears I swear i'm repenting
Do something, do something, Please save me from myself
DO SOMETHING, DO SOMETHING, just enough to save me from myself

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