Harrison Whitford
Strangers In the Making
Out of luck and into life
My heart is on the line again
It's all out in the open
Telling lies to get by
Pissing off the bridge again
Riding out my high
Coughing myself awake
A sickness has taken over me
I think I'm about to break
I swear it's not how it's supposed to be
We were dead before birth
We are strangers in the making
Broken glass and bloody mouth
Harboring a fugitive
Inside yourself
Oscelate, shift your key
Wherever you feel comfortable
With or without me
Coughing myself awake
A sickness has taken hold of me
I think I'm about to break
I swear it's not how it's supposed to be
We were dead before birth
We are strangers in the making
It's all in my head
That's all, there's nothing left
It's all in my head
That's all, there's nothing left
It's all in my head
That's all, there's nothing left