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Дата: 2006-10-03
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I've been trudging through the fog
I cannot see too clearly
The smog burns at my eyes
And it clutches at my windpipe
Tightly clutches at my windpipe
I've been trudging through this fog
I'm trudging
Breathing is a goddamn job
The only one that I can find
Living is a fuckin' chore
One that I do daily
Yes, one that I do daily
I've been trudging...
Must rise up out of clouds
There is a stomach lining
At the end of the tainted rainbow
There is nothing much worth finding
There is nothing much worth finding
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