Crumble by The Mindless Drones Lyrics

Slip away to crumble down the town
Dirty rat couldn't stand the pound

As long as father lies awake in bed
So then I cry as one living amongst the dead

Passion lies where dreams make land
And there I die by my own hand

The wind blows hard against the mount
How many years will I hold count

Shakespeare's son died all alone
With not a word to his tombstone

The same old clock that took his breath
Hangs like a noose for future's death

The guiding light inside of me
Will lead me straight and keep me free
If all my life I could be a slouch
I would pull lint off my year-stained couch

Small talk chop shop with a criminal's son
Lasts just until the work is done

The wind blows hard against the mount
How many years will I hold count

When is too late to find a date for one who's never loved
Or really known that life has such through cold and sterile glove

Shall not my grave be filled with naught
Will all my life be something sought

The wind blows hard against the mount
How many years will I hold count

When is too late to find a date for one who's never loved
Or really known that life has such through cold and sterile glove

Shall not my grave be filled with naught
Will all my life be something sought

Will all my life be something sought