I’m not sure what I’ve become: the bitter, the cold, the distant. Living in a land of fog, I’m dreary-eyed and resistant. No more lies, nowhere else to hide.
Not Sure What I’ve Become
Not Sure What I’ve Become
Not Sure What I’ve Become
I’m not sure what I’ve become: the bitter, the cold, the distant. Living in a land of fog, I’m dreary-eyed and resistant. No more lies, nowhere else to hide.