- cifra
A Habit Of Rest Brings Nothing
Always tied down
Endure wasted breath
I see the outside
A lack of strength
Mind is stale
My eyes are sore
The light is on
I can't anymore
Of all times
Of all times
To fall down
Of all times
To resort to nothing
All the time
I fall again
I taste my words
I'm bending over backwards
Go beyond the walls
My primary function
I don't want this silence
All motivation is gone
I can go beyond this
It should be so easy
For me to rise above
I can go beyond this
I found
A method of breathing
