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)