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• Artiste: Higher (The)
• Titre: Guts
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The consequence of a child The mild months of worthwhile No mess you better decide With grace but not by design She smokes like guns to the world We'll catch your moderate slur And sing your modern love song But wish you'd died anyway Now gone I'm gonna get you for that Get you more like a chance I'm more of a guns to the wall The guts that cut through your lungs Every breath takes a sound You're deciding on them all I felt like I would learn to fly the pattern you were aiming for You feel like time is not all necessary, but my mind would I come around so much less without you, without you I can't breathe The consequence of a child The mild months of worthwhile No mess you better decide With grace but not by design She smokes like guns to the world We'll catch your moderate slur And sing your modern love song But wish you'd died anyway Now gone I'm gonna get you for that Get you more like a chance I'm more of a guns to the wall The guts that cut through your lungs Every breath takes a sound You're deciding on them all I felt like I would learn to fly the pattern you were aiming for You feel like time is not all necessary, but my mind would I come around so much less without you, without you I can't breathe I can only think that you would be unhappy for me after all the silly shit we've been through I can only hope that life would be so lax and so free when the mornings get you more than before I would only hope that everything would come back to you just to say you wanted me too I would be the one to let you catch up and go through, go through I felt like I would learn to fly the pattern you were aiming for You feel like time is not all necessary, but my mind would I come around so much less without you, without you I can't breathe