In a swirling dance of enigmatic symbolism, Nai Palm weaves an introspective tapestry exploring the duality of human nature. Her verses seem to trace the journey of a soul navigating life's uncertain path—caught between the allure of the heart's fierce desires and the quiet call to let go. The haunting refrain echoes a poignant truth: life's complexities may remain tangled and unresolved. Yet, hidden within the chaos lies the potential to find profound clarity and introspective peace. The "born hunter" roams through shadow and light, seeking direction within the "cold cold braille" of existence, where acceptance and resilience become the true compass. Through vibrant imagery and captivating rhythm, the lyrics invite listeners to embrace the beautiful ambiguity of life's perpetual search for meaning. #SelfDiscovery #LifeJourney #EmbraceChaos #InnerClarity
Molasses
Lyrics
Might not get, might not get any better
Might not, might not get, might not get any better
Might not, might not get, might not get any better
Might not, might not get, might not get any better
You the born hunter
Relic with an armored heart
Color of sulfur
Banished to a single arc
Porcelain smolder and don't forget you're state of the art
Buried deep in the soil, selfless or daft
It could be a compass, rare and so bountiful
It could be the opposing opinion
It could be the point of traction bound to all
It could be the point of letting it go
It could be a compass, rare and so bountiful
It could be the opposing opinion
It could be the point of traction bound to all
It could be the point of letting it go
Running with my eyes closed
Blinding the lens with the focus
Running with my eyes closed
Finding omens in the woodwork
I see cold cold braille
Mechanical and frail
How do I tessellate, filter the rage
You the born hunter
Relic with an armored heart
Color of sulfur
Banished to a single arc
Porcelain smolder and don't forget you're state of the art
Buried deep in the soil, selfless or daft
Might not get any better, get any better
Oh better, better
Might not get any better, get any better
Oh better better
It could be a compass, rare and so bountiful
It could be the opposing opinion
It could be the point of traction bound to all
It could be the point of letting it go
It could be a compass, rare and so bountiful
It could be the opposing opinion
It could be the point of traction bound to all
It could be the point of letting it go
Writer(s): Naomi Saalfield, Paul Bender, Perrin Moss, Simon Mavin
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
What is the Meaning of Molasses
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