maybe i'm not supposed to fix myself
live with my dysfunctions
maybe i'm better in what i'm worst at
being truth full got me nowhere
and neither to pretend
a souls naked dieing breath
needs a reason
like our mothers breasts

the life you want
and the life you need
wont ever be the same
until you find the reason to be free
you'll be happy in your cage

your father's lounges
your mother's warmth breath
all dies over and over again
because we need the memories
to crying lieing in our beds

...a factory for nostalgy