lyrics
He gets no sleep, he cannot keep, his eyes open.
His cloudy heart bleeds out the door.
He joins the dots, he cannot stop, feeling broken.
What are these silent bruises for? 'Cause he can see no more.
Sugar coating turning sour.
Half life at the eleventh hour.
His pallid skin is giving in to the routine.
Each day, no different from the last.
A thousand words lined up in herds with no translation.
The years have scratched and torn his mask, and now it's tearing fast.
Sugar coating turning sour.
Half life at the eleventh hour.
Breathing, choking, losing power,
Triumph comes at the eleventh hour.
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