this is not a voice it's a vehicle of starvation my windpipe rotted through the floor my face was wearing thin before it's hard to tell since nothing ever worked right anyway it should be pretty clear from everything you hear that one must need not know how to sing to share a point of view lucky to just make it through this far alive there's less and less on my chest wouldn't trade the world for any of this wash the road off my clothes turn in my sore throat and release me you think it's inside your skin forever it's ironic true catharsis comes with last ditch efforts a scribbled message on the toilet when the strain overtakes the ambition it's probably time to give it away there's less and less on my chest wouldn't trade the world for any of this wash the road off my clothes turn in my sore throat and release me these eyes are seeing double so maybe it's time to pull over to the side of the road and let it all go there's less and less on my chest wouldn't trade the world for any of this wash the road off my clothes turn in my sore throat and release me