3 years ago
Bottom Feeder-Segue 3
Lyrics
Long walks with my temper
take me down a dead end street
in contemplation.
Where do we start at the end?
Before I could collect myself,
I'm vacuumed in by a figure's arm-spread
with fiery gasps of iron-air,
cornered in my circle of friends.
Won't he speak to you?
Won't he speak to you?
Wonʼt he speak?
Wonʼt he speak?
Emptied on the floor
were the shells of my defenses.
Placing in his own
bullets of condescendence.
Those people shafted me
of my social weaponry.
Writer(s): STEPHEN BRODSKY, JOHN ROBERT CONNERS, ADAM MARC MCGRATH, CALEB MARK SCOFIELD
Copyright(s): Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
The Meaning of Bottom Feeder-Segue 3
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3 years ago