dweller. (us) - all the things we carry lyrics
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chip on my shoulder
on a one+way to the bottom
swore that we were golden
as our youth flees and we weather
from all the things we carry with us
you changed your name
it doesn’t quite ring like it used to
reflection stained
from all of the things we carry
call it what it is
giving up or growing old
so this is how it is
chewing our way out of soil
from all of the things we carry
[interlude]
call it what it is
giving up or growing old
the ringing in our ears
is only getting worse
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