Gold

The world is clean and green
The body leans on a doubt
It's like an abdomen
Deeply hollowed stance
And the feeling of becoming something
The day I die is in the strength of my ideal

Set up a wish that made us soft
As a moth through the doubts and fear
Whatever makes it less bitter

The mental strain is such
A kind of cage and now my
Cage is an event
It leaks and bounds
It's fear of becoming someone less
And it's the constant weeks we do endure

Set up a wish that made us soft
As a moth through the doubts and fear
Whatever makes you feel good enough
Whatever makes it hard to forget
When you lose in control
We'll tie it down again

And maybe it's a curse
I live on the verge
Of a nervous breakdown
I have a remembrance
At my intentions
Just like
Just like