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Air on the Moon

de Volz

So what if I’m abrasive, angry and cold, you can’t change me.
I broke apart the average statue of mould, don’t you blame me.
You better sit down, shut up, do what you’re told, then you’ll see me
And realize we’re all made up of old souls, as we should be.

I see the reflection, it’s not a rendition of what I could be.
Another redemption about the affliction of the things I see.
Inside the addiction, allowing the fiction that’s engulfing me.
I need the reaction and it’s inside me.

There’s nothing left that we should conquer untold, we’re a meager mess.
With all the averages that seem to be sold, it’s a simple stress.
What’s left for you to heed inside of the fold, hope you do your best.
Dig up the rest and start anew as you’re told, just forget the rest.

I see the reflection, it’s not a rendition of what I could be.
Another redemption about the affliction of the things I see.
Inside the addiction, allowing the fiction that’s engulfing me.
I need the reaction and it’s inside me.

I’ve worked so damn hard to put things in their place;
I can’t leave, I’m staying right in your face.

I see the reflection

I see the reflection, it’s not a rendition of what I could be.
Another redemption about the affliction of the things I see.
Inside the addiction, allowing the fiction that’s engulfing me.
I need the reaction and it’s inside me.

I see the reflection, it’s not a rendition of what I could be.
Another redemption about the affliction of the things I see.
Inside the addiction, allowing the fiction that’s engulfing me.
I need the reaction and it’s inside me.

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