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the corta vita - fire at the paper factory lyrics
a systematic set
(fire brigade)
of whispers
(burn it down)
the clocks are running slow
(you said)
the clocks are running slow
(you said)
in a room that’s never been swept
a room that’s never been swept
secrets lie open
under books i’ve never read
cars trickle by, trickle by my street
a window hooked up
stretching across my eyes
i push myself through
i push myself through
build it up
break it down
build it up
break it down
build it up
break it down
so swallow that razor blade
and breathe with me
so swallow that razor blade
and breathe with mе
i hope it cuts you
i hope it cuts your heart out
i hopе it cuts you
i hope it cuts your heart out
i hope it cuts you
i hope it cuts your heart out
i hope it cuts you
(i hope you make it out)
i hope it cuts your heart out
i’m drowning
i want to go home
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