The Narrator - Two Lives

There are only a few hands whose touch doesn’t feel like being choked
By far not every warmth is meant to chase the cold

I won’t bite it when it feeds
Yet I refuse it when I’m not in need
Reaching for stars has become obsolete
Since a bulb on the ceiling is more than most will ever see

Feels like we are the youngest elders
We should have held the world in our hands
Torn apart — reduced to our anger
Still shape the core of their defilement

Undergone enough for the tale of two lives
While my own state of mind’s far from being divine

So I might be the hand that feeds
Still I was refused by those in need
Reaching for stars has become obsolete
’Cause darkness completes their harmony

Feels like we are the youngest elders
We should have held the world in our hands
Torn apart — reduced to our anger
Still we shape the core
Feels like we are the youngest elders
We should have held the world in our hands
Torn apart — reduced to our anger
Still shape the core of their defilement

I just cannot comprehend
How much my brain should process
Infinity appears to be less
Than all the shit that’s piling up in this mess

Piling up in this mess

There’s just one thing that’s reassuring
And I’ve experienced it all
As long as this world keeps moving
We’re not sure if we’ll see the dawn
Panic fades as I embrace simplicity
The arms of my chosen family
Make me feel this is real