White sun
Spring of wealth
Come for a good time
It's not what I have
Vibrate
Life on the line
My racing heart
Your vacant mind
If I sow a wind now
I will reap a storm
You saw me sliding
Away from the sun
And tomorrow
Who will come
And put their hand over mine
Mine with the burning shape of a gun
Washed out
Soul of money
Couldn't keep the fire
It's not what I do
Vibrate
Life on the line
My racing heart
It's all I find
Inside the sickness
Rest
Inside the sickness
Rest
If I sow a wind now
I will reap a storm
You saw me sliding
Away from the sun
And tomorrow
Who will come
And put their hand over mine
Mine with the burning shape of a gun
Writer(s): Jonas Petter Renkse
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