| Pit | ||||||
| By Ben Withington | ||||||
| Four foot hall of endless doors Falling downward through the floors My blurry vision Screwed up my fission With life I'm exhausted My legs are weary I've lost the will To run Chorus- I've sunk down with the fools I can't escape with mortal tools I'm swimming harder than I can breathe I'm gonna give you a reason to believe The crytal faded My soul was jaded The ink blots grew And the strangers knew My ugly shattered thoughts I'm crawling still On my broken will But its undying law Still remembers what I saw |
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