PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
I’m not enough, I’m losing hope
I hit my knees and bow down to the god of dope
I’m bleeding out, I sold my wings
I don’t remember asking you a goddamn thing
Sick of it
My horns are out, I gored the Host
And to the hoofen ones I rise and make this toast
I’ve given up, no one to blame
I’m making fire in the land of endless rain
Sick of it