Federico Baltimore - The 12th string

We express the same things but with different words
We acknowledge the same curve and those might-have-heareds

Just like the last line you draw to remind of past-time
A fast-winded feeling of freedom pleased to be recognized

And i can hear your doctors calling from here, saying:
Killed by his independecy and akilles-heel
Cuz he armed himself with stealthy mass-appeal.

Wheres my muse, wheres my muse
It feels like every word slipping through my mouth has been used

Staggering like the old man feeding the dirt
With my glass eye reflecting all the things that iv learned

A windowless frame in a transparent room
Flilling up cracks with plastic assumes

Shapeshift
A nuance
A venue

Chrous:
Don't stop dreaming cuz this aint over
Wreck of you life, aim til you get sober

Don't stop dreaming cuz this aint over
My friend
I wrestle myself as I walk along the weary-
motely watching i find myself staring
building up an empire, of my great desire
while fumes/fuel from my thought process take me higher

Higher and higher, I ain't stoppin there,
My avalanche of color starts over there,
And I've got the solitary key to go through.

Grey and delicious
The traps can be so vicious
Prepare for the ultimate takedown.

Part time experience
Might save you from deliverance,
But will it serve the greater cause?

Chrous:
Don't stop dreaming cuz this ain't over
Break up your life, until you get sober

Don't stop dreaming cuz this ain't over
My friend