The Pink Noise

Sinking slowly down to the sand
Breathing knuckles in my hand
I can't feel anything at all

My limbs are like a sinking tide
Pull me right off of your back
I need to learn how to grow

Sitting round to hear those words
We are nothing like our slurs
That everything is beautiful

I feel my back heats up with stones
At least they make me feel less alone
All I want is the sky

Bed and breakfast with some bread
Always seem to clear my head
The pink noise is a lie

Sitting round to hear those words
We are nothing like our slurs
That everything is beautiful