The Truth About Nebraska testo

Tactosa

Testo

Young man
Your facing ice cold waters
Take a dip
Subconsciousness
And let go of what your harbor
If I could turn back time
Ignorance is bliss
A fate not mine
Must be fun to be young
And dumb in the city
The Midwest mold
Where the dead walk with living
The nights are cold
And the mornings aren’t a given
A fucking given
Play with fire
You will be burned
The scars you have
Are well deserved
A wilting rose
Still has thorns
The precipice
Bull will give the horns
Reality is not objective
Hallucinations are perception
Claiming of a false perspective
Those who’s suffer from depression