LYRIC



And so the day begins with a hidden cloud,
Whose shadow is close behind, yet keeping its face concealed from me.

And so the day is on the verge to yell and shout,
What legal matters I find melt in my head to replace me.

Oh nostalgic pride.
Oh a bruise in my side.

I try to breathe,
I try to bleed,
I’ll always need, a little bit of history.
Daydream the day,
I’ll die if you leave.
I’ll always need, a little bit of history.

Sometimes I wonder if I need a brain biopsy,
To learn how to close the widow through which I can see.

Strange how I don’t miss these things, the spectres who have haunted this place.
And yet it’s like I try to communicate it seems.

Oh nostalgic pride.
Oh a bruise in my side.

I try to breathe,
I try to bleed,
I’ll always need, a little bit of history.
Daydream the day,
I’ll die if you leave.
I’ll always need, a little bit of history.

© 2020 Minoan Music

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