Letra de The try

Immersion in the wrong sort.
This is my manifesto.
Trying to become whole again with tingly hands.
Tingly body.
Mind sunk deep within.
An arbitraryconversation.
Looking, seeing and feeling the wrongs.
A simplified overcoming of stature and belonging.
Nevermore, this overcompensated disillusion.
Of downtime and no time and babbling.
I will set aside and overcome, with suds of porter in hand.
A mild mannerd genuis has come to save me.
I seem to rise as morning draws near.
Pushing through fields of trachs (green and alive).
The dew draws close to my hung down body, feeling alone, but in the comfort of friends.
If I drew this close to perfection every moment I would be the field and would be the green.
A conflict of mind and matter.
I would live in harmony beside you.
But never alone.