كلمات Permanent

Two ways to choose, On a razor's edge, Remain behind, Go straight ahead. Room full of people, room for just one, If I can't break out now, the time just won't come. Watch me unwind. Rejected and depressed. Everything I am I hate. Confused, directionless. Knowing this is all we had. Existing on best terms we can until Death takes us from our own fucking hands. But nothing can touch us now. I tell myself that I know I don't want to be the man who tells stories Of the all things that were ripped from my hands before I truly grasped them and I know if we shutdown in stages then let this be the last time That I ever fucking gave a shit, with my head in my hands, I never meant anything more than this, This is the story of permanence. This is the story of unchained momentum This is the story of everything, we ever wanted.