Lyric

That cheap passion, I threw it out quick, It's too old to wear even this winter. In this empty, hollow room I'm left in, Only the leftover sunlight from the neighbor's second floor shines through

Kids are already lost in text and sound, Friends with zero temperature felt through the screen. Adults are drowning in their complexes, Desperate to fill the void of everything they just watched and envied

Just wait up for me, Before I make some terrible, final judgment. Just realize this truth, That only the good people talk about doing good things. We need to pour more than just codeine or pure hatred, We need a hand searching like it's digging for a key at the bottom of a bag

What I thought was warmth was just a cold trick art, In the end, it's all just concrete poured and stretched everywhere. Is it true that the rain only washes away the filth at the bottom? It's us, beating up on ourselves, And we have no time left to even think about stopping

Just wait up for me, Before I make some terrible, final judgment. Just realize this truth, That only the good people talk about doing good things. We need to pour more than just codeine or pure hatred, We need a hand searching like it's digging for a key at the bottom of a bag