Light. There are some towers blinking. The smell of fresh cut grass. It all so nice and soothing - and so dead. I've been willing to put up with this for far too long. Can't take it anymore. Between reclining seats and receding hairlines, I'm gaining weight and losing ground. And now I'd rather lose my very footing, and now I'd rather stumble and fall down than lose myself again. This is my last goodbye. This is my last farewell, I hope.


Lyrics submitted by shepastaway

Reclining Seats, Receding Hairlines song meanings
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