Wax Patter - The Process (Petty Little Poems)

I miss the thought that a hundred dollars on a microphone would be enough
I miss my ignorance I miss my bliss into thinking that I was just growing up
I miss the cinnamon I put in my sentences back when I thought I could love me
I miss my friends I miss my sleep I miss my money
I miss the excitement of change and how I'd start to see things I'm stuck here for life now
I miss my heart it's so strange I can see how we all like to move like there's no sounds
I miss the concept of albums and how I had so many they stretched out my visor things
I miss not knowing before my calling and now thats all gone away
I miss not seeing through lies
I miss disguises I miss not knowing myself
I get to move in silence I'm so foolish when I speak I wind up exposing myself
Thoughts of poison cross my mind I can't help it I wish you the worst and I'll see you in hell
And may you all burn here with me
I hope the turnout breaks records

Written by:
Darren Yeats

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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