Sounds of machinery are buzzing around me like flies
And I'm sheltered in the warm of childhood home
The heat from my tea keeps me warm
Until a window of light hits my feet
And I drift from loving, the feeling
The warmth of your love, but is it smothering
Like you’re in a small cave, its warm
But the air, it feels cold
The measurement of time, is somewhat unreliable
Is it standing as still as I am in this moment
As the arts and craft glue sinks into my nails
And the paint, stains my skin
As we, lock our doors and our hearts, to feeling
Got told to, hold the flood gates up to our eyes, let this subside
And I drift from loving, the feeling
Like you’re in a small cave, its warm
But the air, it feels cold
Like you’re in a small cave, its warm
And I drift from loving this
