Storm - I Am Oak

Breathing comes from the choking of the lungs

Breathing comes with a motion of the chest

It shows us your wilderness

Roosing black lips

Rooftops splitting up

I wrote it off long

I wrote it off softly

I wrote it off slow

I wrote it of softly

Who said

My lungs are full

My tongue is tired

My teeth are gone

My eyes are soft

I am a color of my own

Roosing black lips

Rooftops splitting up