In your hands Im trying In your hands Im trying flight I cant die In your hands Im trying In your hands Im trying flight I cant die Im flying in the cold breeze every night Spare me all the strife My desires never tire But would it feel much better if I died? Petty highs get me by but how long must I live with this disguise... Have you no direction? I just sense pretentious signs In your highs I hear the same old stories every night Spare me all the strife My desires never tire But would it feel much better if I died? Petty highs get me by but how long must I live with this disguise...
trying, petty, strife, tire, spare