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Side Effects of Being Tired

Unwound

When I hold my breath, your lungs collapse
In a dream perhaps on one of those days when I hold my tongue
It all comes back in a hated way
If I said the words, you could sleep now
If I said the words

Her magistrate will concentrate
In attempts to show no signs of hate

When I hold my breath, your lungs collapse
In a dream perhaps on one of those days when I hold my tongue
It all comes back in a hated way
If I said the words, I could sleep now
Can't say the words

Her magistrate will concentrate
In attempts to show no signs of hate