Інструменти
Ensembles
Genres
Композитори
Виконавці

Текст: Blindside. A Thought Crushed My Mind. My Mother's Only Son.


Talks about it all the time
It's a sickness he says
So sure all the time
He hates it
And I honestly believe him
So sure all the time

Maybe the one who screams the most
Screams about himself

Fed up of giving up
Clean cup please drink up

He sees it's eating him up
It's the price he pays
But it's not even worth a dime
So scared that people may find out
He is what he hates
So scared all the time

This is his naked inside

Piece by piece he's trying to build a ladder
For him to fall from
Every time he climbs
He condemns their actions
So that no one will suspect
That he's the victim for his own crime

This is his darkness
In which he will stand
This is his naked inside
Alone in a desert land
And I'm a coward
Shut my eyes and concentrate
On my shell, on soap and shower
Oh God how I want to tell the world
But I hesitate

So why don't I have the guts to tell you he's me?