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