Klaustrophobia

All the poets screaming the wolf is on his way Seems to be a lightning but all clouds are black Don't mind your frustration it's just I'm not okay They told me to believe that it's just a purple haze And my hands against walls And my feet to the floor Men are on the tables to preach to the whole wide world They told me to believe in believe believe believe And my hands against walls And my feet to the floor And my heart doesn’t make a sound at all At all It doesn’t make any sound It doesn’t make any sound Anymore Higher to the ground