I was born into these holy robes,
orange and purple on an iron soul.
Lost of and searching for a home so old.
We come to bring fire on your blood and gold
I spent a long time earning these fine scars,
slipping neath the bumpers of speeding cars.
When the world bucks me over my handlebars,
flying, I remember how Midas starved.
I've got that voice like rock, boy, It's sweet and hard.
We're lighting up our touches for our missing parts.
When you know you're everything you can't look too far
before seeing yourself flash across the dark.
credits
from Weakling Treasures,
released October 24, 2015
Written by Ignatz Höch
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