Gold - Sharks

Roll your sleeves

Everybody leaves on a dare

Their sunken eyes and their deeply hollow stares

It’s fear of becoming something that they are not

It’s a constraint of my idea

Terrible waste I’ve made of sarcasm

All clued up down here

Whatever makes it less bitter

Some mental strain at such a callow age

And now my heart cages and vents in leaps and bounds

It’s fear of becoming someone lesser

It’s a constant weight we do endeavor

Terrible waste I’ve made of sarcasm

All clued up down here

Whatever makes you feel kinder

Whatever makes it harder to forget

When you’re losing control all tied up down here

Maybe it’s a curse

I live on the verge of a nervous breakdown for you

I happily immerse, and my intentions stay gold

Just like you