unnecessary sounds from the concrete kiddo - istasha lyrics
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[verse]
still sick of suffering fame
contracting loss of focus
with habits stuck in new game plus
i wish i woke up
make a promise in a vague state, this ain’t the same face
and i’ve still been a passive pest, i have that patience
the drip and flooding nothings, we wish for pack of locusts
and empty by the cellphone line, [?] up the dosage
your fall [?] approaches, switch flight at the concave
imprinted on the backbone brain split up and open
[?] stole my phone [?] gone
[?] all the lights out [?]
[?] stole my phone [?] gone
[?] all the lights out [?]
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