Commonplace Lyrics

I'm trying not to breathe
Tear my discretion out of me
Ground, grit down on my teeth
Turn around,
dispute loose tongues, blurted out
phrases: sore, corrosive.
Built up, and burned through disguise.
Private matters and blue eyed
I'm holding my fingers to my skull
and no matter how its said, it never seem clear
to you
I'm burning out.
You're holding up
a light in the shape of a flag
that burns with the screaming
fear of a love that you can't understand.
with the fear of a love
that you refuse to understand.
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