Portable Television


Lying in a field of grass/glass underneath the overpass
Mangled in the shards of a middle/metal frame Woken from the dream by my own name Well I was such a retchid man searching everywhere for a homeland Now we are under the same sun feeling through the leaves like a

We are the same, we are the same, underneath the sycamore (X2)

We were both broken in our own ways, sifting through the rubble for the wrong things I know you got a vengful heart, I cannot be stopped till these eyes? start But you have seen your darkest rooms and I have slept in make shift rooms And this is where we find our peace, this is where we are







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