Visceral

Lyrics
That phone call Hidden in a bomb Of visceral wreck I'll follow I project I can't help it Isn't it me, or hiding in the trees These remnants of good will I'm not [?] to breakin' my arms To get out of this I'm never getting away from here [...? my dread? ...walls?] [are growin'/or throw it?] in the [plain cells?] What we once had And I stand alone [... the four of them?] [... their mouths?] Chkachkachka [?], feelin' really bad I'll take [?] More of this, whatever [?] I don't even know what to call it [can I/cannot ?]change my hand [...? my dread? ...walls?] [are growin'/or throw it?] in the [plain cell?] Fifteen hundred or more [?] I never expected [this wreck, the star?] That's the [?] of my new problems Isn't it me or hiding in the trees These remnants of good will I'm not ? to breakin' my arms To get out of this I'm never getting away from here [...? my dread? ...walls?] [are growin/or throw it?] in the [plain cells?]
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Credits
- Writers
- Jason Albertini