Esse letra de Morris 8 já foi acessado por 64 pessoas.
When you're a boy trapped in a dead man's body
The weight is far too great
Ducking and weaving with this headstone upon me
I think I'll make it through that gate
Into broad daylight where the traffic expires
And with a hint of smoke I find my way home
And I must look crazy with this load on my shoulders
I'm a tired piece of blood, sweat and bone
And do I really need to look much further, than the
Day that I think I'll die
There's a million answers to a thousand questions, do I
Even have to try
And out in the distance I see a burnt out old minefield, and it's
Called the world I couldn't care
Resting my head inside the palms of my childhood
I pause, look confused and stare
Then as I eat all of the fruit of experience
Hoping to throw off these chains
My past intentions met by real world considerations
Turns my joy into pain
And do I really have to cry this long now
This hard, so often, for real
And do I have to let the past slip by me, if I
Want to heal
When you're a boy trapped in a dead man's body
The weight is far too great
And living your life inside a dead man's body, will drive you
Completely insane
The weight is far too great, the weight is far too great...
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