Matador by Tomigaya Lyrics
I’d call it war but that’s abuse
The only thing I’ve left to lose
Is "who am I”
So tell me who am I
I wake up feeling overdue
And sink my teeth on nothing new
Just for a while
It’s only for a while
I need a break from all the cues
Unwanted efforts left too loose
I wonder if there’s any use
In wondering if there’s any use
Well Lucy tells me I can choose
When something whispers me
You’re waiting for a fight (x4)
I’d call it war but that’s a ruse
The only thing I’m yet to lose
Is "who am I”
So tell mе who am I
I wake up feeling misconstrued
And sink my teeth on nothing true
Just for a whilе
If only for a while
I need a break from all the rules
Unwanted efforts left too soon
So what’s the point in feeling used
There’s nothing left for me to choose
Well Lucy begs me, I refuse
The crowd they wait for me
They are ready for a fight
I’m ready for a fight but
Serpentine the path that leads us
Where we’ve been, the past that seems to
Feed the hand and bite the reason
Never said, a somber whisper
Raised again, the sound of silver
Pots and pans to know thy mission
A mess we make to hold our cinders
Head in spades, we call it wisdom
The only thing I’ve left to lose
Is "who am I”
So tell me who am I
I wake up feeling overdue
And sink my teeth on nothing new
Just for a while
It’s only for a while
I need a break from all the cues
Unwanted efforts left too loose
I wonder if there’s any use
In wondering if there’s any use
Well Lucy tells me I can choose
When something whispers me
You’re waiting for a fight (x4)
I’d call it war but that’s a ruse
The only thing I’m yet to lose
Is "who am I”
So tell mе who am I
I wake up feeling misconstrued
And sink my teeth on nothing true
Just for a whilе
If only for a while
I need a break from all the rules
Unwanted efforts left too soon
So what’s the point in feeling used
There’s nothing left for me to choose
Well Lucy begs me, I refuse
The crowd they wait for me
They are ready for a fight
I’m ready for a fight but
Serpentine the path that leads us
Where we’ve been, the past that seems to
Feed the hand and bite the reason
Never said, a somber whisper
Raised again, the sound of silver
Pots and pans to know thy mission
A mess we make to hold our cinders
Head in spades, we call it wisdom