Molasses - Nai Palm

Might not, might not get, might not get any better

Might not, might not get, might not get any better

Might not, might not get, might not get any better

You the born hunter

Relic with an armored heart

Color of sulfur

Banished to a single arc

Porcelain smolder and don’t forget you’re state of the art

Buried deep in the soil, selfless or daft

It could be a compass, rare and so bountiful

It could be the opposing opinion

It could be the point of traction bound to all

It could be the point of letting it go

It could be a compass, rare and so bountiful

It could be the opposing opinion

It could be the point of traction bound to all

It could be the point of letting it go

Running with my eyes closed

Blinding the lens with the focus

Running with my eyes closed

Finding omens in the woodwork

I see cold cold braille

Mechanical and frail

How do I tessellate, filter the rage

You the born hunter

Relic with an armored heart

Color of sulfur

Banished to a single arc

Porcelain smolder and don’t forget you’re state of the art

Buried deep in the soil, selfless or daft

Might not get any better, get any better

Oh better, better

Might not get any better, get any better

Oh better better

(Better Better Better

Better Better Better

Better Better Better

Better Better Better

Better Better Better

Better Better Better

Better Better Better

Better Better Better

Better Better Better

Better Better Better

Better Better Better

Better Better Better

Better Better Better

Better Better Better)

It could be a compass, rare and so bountiful

It could be the opposing opinion

It could be the point of traction bound to all

It could be the point of letting it go

It could be a compass, rare and so bountiful

It could be the opposing opinion

It could be the point of traction bound to all

It could be the point of letting it go