I'm sick to the bones of everything that's growing old.
With every tide that turns every good in the world is out of control.
Throw it away, shake off the weight.
Forget what it takes to grow out of your innocence.
White caskets in the ground.
There should be castles in the sky.
The shell is walking around, but hollow from the inside.
White caskets in the ground.
There should be castles in the sky.
The shell is walking around, but hollow from the inside.
And we don't know that we carry their souls in our hands slowly dripping through the breaches like water in the sand.
They will get rid of their innocence.