52

Get up
Find your feet
You’ve fallen asleep son
Time to get a move on
Fever
In your bones
You rest on your own terms
Smoke out the coward
Would you quit with the cold words
Take it on your shoulders
Throw away composure
Move on Take it slow
I lost you in the low clouds
Making magic of know-how
Would you quit with the cold words
Take it on your shoulders
Throw away composure
All my fables fall down
Lead me with that grey crown
I believe it somehow, said
Still wonder if I’m made for this
52 times don’t feel like bliss
But if there’s one thing that I know for sure
I’d rather feel like this than not feel at all
And maybe one day I will cut that cord
Just maybe I’ll find what I was searching for