Founds total 3 songs
No Rest
We greet each day with bloodshot eyes. The dirt of our labor still clingin' to our hands. Filled with our warped intentions. The tread of our shoes filled with foreign sands.
Burial
When will this winter end?. The snow's been falling for months. The town all dressed in white. And my skin is burning from the wind. . A cold sun in disguise.
Boiled Frogs
a man sits at his desk. One year from retirement. And he's up for review. Not quite sure what to do. each passing year. The workload grows. . I'm always wishing.
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