[ti:Stitches] [ar:Young Guns] [al:All Our Kings Are Dead] [00:02.00]Young Guns - Stitches [00:07.00] [00:19.96]Every hour is a season [00:23.87]Every season* is a day [00:27.31]So I sit here picking stitches [00:31.02]'cos I find comfort in decay [00:34.62]How I long to fill my lungs [00:55.57]Tell me how does it feel to [01:00.98]Breathe air cold and clean [01:04.65]Cos I've been living on my knees [01:08.15]Since I was seventeen [01:10.62]Thought I was safe beneath the smoke [01:17.58]But even under cover I still choke [02:38.66][01:25.94]My wings are clipped but even if they weren't [02:46.06][01:33.22]I've not the guts to fly and leave behind the Earth [02:53.36][01:40.46]There's no poetry in my soul [02:57.09][01:44.12]Just a list of lies I've told [03:00.72][01:47.87]And I don't know how much longer I can hold on.