Wallow - Coasts

Boredom makes you creative

It stifles my insides

It lacks a certain thunder

A rifle between the eyes

Distance sparked the friction

A ripple of high tides

I’m done with reading fiction

You could philosophise my mind

Wallow in the middle

Wallow in the mire

Wallow in the fields where your feet are on fire

Your eyes begin to focus

When darkness steals the sun

Oh, you must be holding out for something that was quicker than the gun

Run back through sunny feilds into an empty open space

I got some much to learn in life those tears run down your face