Paroles: Young Livers. The New Drop Era. From The Throat.

Breathless, gasping as the days are swallowed. Rundown and followed by the indecisive. Intact are these staggered letters, haunting. None of them ever teeming with desire. Left trying to find a few more chances. With countless ways to keep them buried. This might be what were taking with us. Faltered insights tattered view. Perception's restless. Swallowed and Buried. I welcome everything I invited. Perception is skewed by the waiting