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外链地址
http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/1d93e9d91101a06d6ecc7cd7a8f17964.mp3
点击复制Ceiling low
Air feels thicker than before
Paint chips counting every breath
Doorframe looking smaller
Shirt sticks
Sweat in the middle of my back
Every corner leaning in
Like the walls talk back
It’s closing in
Four white sides
My spinning head
Too much room inside my chest
Not enough around this bed
It’s closing in
I swear the floor just raised an inch
Every inhale feels like fence
It’s closing in
It’s closing in
Window stuck
Fingerprints in every pane
Clock hands dragging heavy feet
Name buzzing in my brain
Light hums
Buzzing like a trapped wasp
Trace escape routes on the plaster
Every line just stops
It’s closing in
Four white sides
My spinning head
Too much room inside my chest
Not enough around this bed
It’s closing in
I swear the floor just raised an inch
Every inhale feels like fence
It’s closing in
It’s closing in
How far can a heartbeat run
In a ten-step room
How loud can a whisper sound
When the silence blooms
I press my palms
Flat against the frame
If I can’t get out of here
I’ll try to get out of my own brain
It’s closing in
Four white sides
My spinning head
Too much room inside my chest
Not enough around this bed
It’s closing in
I count to ten
Then count again
Till my name feels like a fence
It’s closing in
It’s closing in