Ignite - 50 And a month

In my time of dying all ive grown to be english cant define these feelings i keep waiting theres a strange time called trying thats vague like us i can always try harder which means i never try enough my mind is always crying concentration, saturation, an arquaintance is so nieve or just a blind soul fifty and a month is so long for some understanding becomes my snair the harder i struggle the more confined i become does quanity stop at empty does quality stop with you (chorus) fifty and a month is just a blink for me fifty and a month