Atlas - Wordsmith
You see I wouldn't really call myself a wordsmith
Cuz' words never have been something I was that good with
Its been absurd since that learning curve went South for the Winter left my teeth on the curb bent
Knocked right outta' my mouth into splinters
My household was Shindler's List doused in the bitter mist of counting its insolence and down right deliberate sh**
N' awful existence prepped to drown out the brittle bits
I was falling apart in my own elusiveness complaining n' confused instead of actually doing sh**
When the window flitted open and a breeze you would flew in with
Breathe but refused to sit
See I was truer then
Perhaps I should just move a bit feeling like my souls are sleeping
I've been getting harder to hold with every golden week
I'm so cold and meek n' needed a friend
Askin' "When I'll see you again"
When will I see you again (x5)