The Catch 22 - Sarea

Reject, every notion of me versus you

Detect, the light in late December

We are who we say we are

Nothing can ever change that

Not a question of murder

It’s the art of losing yourself

Lost and found, never was broken

Cracked skull torn apart

Thought I was the chosen

Hollow eyes will tell you

This is catch 22

We decided to take this one step forward

Lost track of us, pushed back forward

Circles unending, spirals to the sea

I’m falling side of it all

Tired worn to pieces

A silent fuck you all, never felt this prison

Your fucking high ideals and visions

Left for treason

The human race a virus

Catatonic situation