Counting down
The end isn't now
But I'm almost out
Of days here
If only to see
The eighth sea
And pass by its breeze
That's enough for me
It's been years since I left my past
Unattached, all that made me, unpacked
A step ahead and one step back
Is better than none letting life exist as
World without wonder number 8
Fields upon fours lucky clover plains
And wish to save up enough luck
To tell death to f*ck itself right off
Well they say it takes more to want more
Well I'm worn, and all mine is yours
Well what the hell do ya take me for
A rich man with no core
Well I'm bored, and I'm sure
That all doors lead me to the same corpse
So how the hell can I give you more
I'm burnt out, beat down, and poor
Wit Miller - Memento Mori Lyrics
Wit Miller - Memento Mori Lyrics
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English
Counting down
The end isn't now
But I'm almost out
Of days here
If only to see
The eighth sea
And pass by its breeze
That's enough for me
It's been years since I left my past
Unattached, all that made me, unpacked
A step ahead and one step back
Is better than none letting life exist as
World without wonder number 8
Fields upon fours lucky clover plains
And wish to save up enough luck
To tell death to f*ck itself right off
Well they say it takes more to want more
Well I'm worn, and all mine is yours
Well what the hell do ya take me for
A rich man with no core
Well I'm bored, and I'm sure
That all doors lead me to the same corpse
So how the hell can I give you more
I'm burnt out, beat down, and poor
The end isn't now
But I'm almost out
Of days here
If only to see
The eighth sea
And pass by its breeze
That's enough for me
It's been years since I left my past
Unattached, all that made me, unpacked
A step ahead and one step back
Is better than none letting life exist as
World without wonder number 8
Fields upon fours lucky clover plains
And wish to save up enough luck
To tell death to f*ck itself right off
Well they say it takes more to want more
Well I'm worn, and all mine is yours
Well what the hell do ya take me for
A rich man with no core
Well I'm bored, and I'm sure
That all doors lead me to the same corpse
So how the hell can I give you more
I'm burnt out, beat down, and poor
Writer: Wit Miller
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid