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Nai Palm
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Molasses
Might not get, might not get any better
Might not, might not get, might not get any better
Might not, might not get, might not get any better
Might not, might not get, might not get any better
You the born hunter
Relic with an armored heart
Color of sulfur
Banished to a single arc
Porcelain smolder and don't forget you're state of the art
Buried deep in the soil, selfless or daft
It could be a compass, rare and so bountiful
It could be the opposing opinion
It could be the point of traction bound to all
It could be the point of letting it go
Running with my eyes closed
Blinding the lens with the focus
Running with my eyes closed
Finding omens in the woodwork
I see cold cold braille
Mechanical and frail
How do I tessellate, filter the rage
You the born hunter
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Relic with an armored heart
Color of sulfur
Banished to a single arc
Porcelain smolder and don't forget you're state of the art
Buried deep in the soil, selfless or daft
Might not get any better, get any better
Oh better, better
Might not get any better, get any better
Oh better, better
Better, better
Better, better
Better, better
Better, better
Better, better
Better, better
Better, better
Better, better
It could be a compass, rare and so bountiful
It could be the opposing opinion
It could be the point of traction bound to all
It could be the point of letting it go
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