I stumbled across my wrongs
Their shapes were spiky, they crumbled
Where shades mixed, they troubled
There is a pleasure
I hate taking the measure
Iâd rather let you feature
I stumbled across my wrongs
I was blind but happy, they babbled
Ended sharing hands, a few troubled
We love doing what we want
Isnât it easy, to destroy it all?
In this path, I hope I donât fall
They mix with the...