Plight

his face is young hands are old the past is empty blind and cold allthe sweat on his back grabs the dirt stains his shirt push all day rest at night do some hobbies drink to forget a ton of sand at my feet each a speck each speck all collecting in a mass pressure changing its shape it's direction its purpose as the sea tears it away from the land more os pushed back each different and separate all has changed nothing has changed when the momentum stops the machine will die fr some reason we're not alone --- Plight - Minutemen