Part of the talking got stuck in my mind
Is a board to road.
Two hours later back in my neighbourhood, where
Everything just stole.
It still looks the same, they remember my name
Stepped it in for a cup full.
Is big city manner used to rumble with him
Back in high school.
The slow cruel hands of time
TURN INTO A ULTIME LOVER OR MORE.
Piece on the ride, you can stop for a while
To look out for a policeman,
There's no street nails
Only free buildings, and one of them faking.
Is taking all day,
The pack's feeling heavy and soon enough.
Backwards down the mountain the axel is brown,
Fall into a long drive.
The sky is in the yard,
Stream cot candy in the fall.
Slow card the hard to fall
So long times I don't?
I've gone this so long
Something I hardly know
Finally up the pieces disrrupted and the birds fly.
Trapped for a moment
The sheriff's department got the wrong guy.
The town is revealed the lone,
Visible winds through the fog.
This slow cruel hands of time, turning you back into a child.
Writer(s): Benjamin Bridwell
Copyright: Birdsmell Brand Songs Music
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