Beecher

One head at war, space isn't policed

One head at war, can't choose to bend or break



The motion, your blood, it's in me now



The black sails, the sultan's right



There's no listening, like old

Waiting for something to show

Never wanted your sympathy

Dashed to reach for mine



Brain full of bullshit, put there by dreams

Questioned the answers, wanted nothing more



Right? Probably wrong ...



When I think of everyone I ever knew I wonder why we met