Split-haired, and thumb-fumbling through falling words, to find a fleeting olive branch
On Sunday when Satan came, I didn't hear your name
To cry forth from empty hands is to overestimate what you're owed to hold
Stand still, zero-lined
We collectivise and create to build our best selves, to self govern
Punch On! - Owed Nothing Lyrics
Punch On! - Owed Nothing Lyrics
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Split-haired, and thumb-fumbling through falling words, to find a fleeting olive branch
On Sunday when Satan came, I didn't hear your name
To cry forth from empty hands is to overestimate what you're owed to hold
Stand still, zero-lined
We collectivise and create to build our best selves, to self govern
On Sunday when Satan came, I didn't hear your name
To cry forth from empty hands is to overestimate what you're owed to hold
Stand still, zero-lined
We collectivise and create to build our best selves, to self govern
Writer: Isaac Windsor, Sean Addicott
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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