Swinging To Pieces Testo

Testo Swinging To Pieces

Every time I start out I run into a wall,
Pick up the pieces that fall to the floor
I see mortar, I see brick
My fists are skin; I long to see through it
So I swing and I swing and I swing and I know
Once I don't have the strength anymore
and I fall to the floor I'm in pieces
I'm in pieces

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