Pulsing: Tired Lungs - Kiev

Tired lungs

Grasp for rope

All follow where they’re led

Follow where they’re dragged

Still some hope

For storms to break it down

Wash it off to sea

Just wash it all

The oldest curse

A sick horse wandering towards

Where their fathers heard

Follow fathers words

There’s some that hope

And will kill for mom

And never wonder why we can’t

Ever stop the wheel

Wash this all