Testo Glove In Hand

Stepped outside from feeling ill at ease.
Breathed in air wild roses feed at nature's putridity
I can't believe I'm jailed in neighbourhood.
I can't believe I lived to stomach it
Bring him in, shield his eyes.
Shy away from all street crime
Thought not what was truly mine,
Four pretty ears and two dull knives In old, I engage to take on every passing day with true hate
In old, I engage to take on every passing day with true hate
Crawled back home from being stabbed three times.
Chose with care exactly where to lay and die
Glove in hand, coat on wall,
Sadness in the breath of every call
We're taking too long to make
This shard of entrust break
In old, I engage to take on every passing day with true hate
In old, I engage to take on every passing day with true hate