Rosa Anschütz
Adjustment
Don't try to compare everyone else's pain
Don't grab the power and decide
How much it hurts

The diversity makes a pain worse

Look in your face because it's aching
Breaking me within
Let my muscles turn into something
Without a constance within

Fear that my head is overwhelming
By the stress I feel within
The one, that feels heavier
With every minute that rinse

And you're spitting on the warm asphalt
Your full of hatred
Sticky gull in your mouth
You feel so wasted

What kind of purpose has a victory
Whеn the winner feels worthless
What kind of purposе has simplicity
When the minimum is tasteless

And you're sweating on the warm seat
You're such a dirtbag
What kind of purpose has simplicity
When the minimum is tasteless

Don't try to compare
Don't try to compare