Lyrics
As I paint the walls of this cave, while i bang on stretched skin to express, i don't feel the same, the things around me start to change, i hold the same tools, i feel the same truths, this brush and this blood, this crude invention will kill the pain, i will sweat this art, until i am gone, some will understand, some will take this further, who still sweats when it takes them no where, just for themselves, is it still art when you bleed for the credit, and not for the paint
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