“Finding resolve to walk the white road.
Counting the segments as I go.
1234..
Fight night isn’t so fun anymore.
I want to see what you have in store.
For me.
Cold cheek running, resting on my knee.
Tracing stares goading me..
To pull the ponytail,
To bite the ear,
Holding my fear.
Oh me, oh my, oh dear,
Want to try to be me?
Load up the jive nerves, shouting me down.
So, shade mode, lay low, watch your fabric unfold.
And we’ll stomp the glary town.
Finding strength to walk the white road.
Smearing the blood as I go.
1234..
I don’t want to see this dull concrete anymore.
I want to see what you said before..
To me.
Cold week running, resting beneath my wing.
Tracing layers goading me..
To pull the sails,
To bite the pier,
Holding my fear.
Oh me, oh my, oh leer.
Want to try to be free?
Load up on life curves, lotting me out.
So, shade told, lay low, watch the fabric unfold.
And we’ll stomp the cherry lout.
Finding resolve to walk the white road.
Counting the segments as I go.
1234..
Fight night isn’t so fun anymore.
Cold cheek running, resting on my knee.
Tracing stares goading me..
To pull the ponytail,
To bite the ear,
Holding my fear.
Oh me, oh my, oh dear,
Want to try to be me?
Load up the jive nerves, shouting me down.
So, shade mode, lay low, watch your fabric unfold.
And fall to the floor.
1234..
I want to see what you have in store.
For me.” -Michael Ament
STÖK 