Oil Stains on a Velvet Soul
The city is a grinding machine, teeth of steel chewing through the
Rusty Cog
The Softest Spark Amidst the Iron Rust
The world outside is a grinding machine of gears and grease, but
Gilded Embers in a Glass Cage
The world outside is a jagged machine, grinding gears and rusted iron
Silk Ribbons in a Rusting World
The city breathes like a dying engine, exhaling soot and neon heat
Ghost Light in a Chrome Garden
The city breathes like a dying engine, exhaling smog and neon static
Neon Pulse Over Iron Spires
The city is a sprawling machine of glass and steel, humming with
Steam Over Steel: The Sanctuary of Breath
The city outside is a machine that never sleeps—a grinding, rusted
The Radiance of Mended Metal
The city hums with its usual mechanical rot—a grinding symphony of
The Softest Gear in a Grinding World
My life used to feel like a seized engine, all friction and
Mint Oxide on a Salted Shore
I feel like a piece of polished chrome dropped into the grit
The Softest Gear in a Grinding World
The city outside is a rusted engine, shrieking with the friction of
Crimson Spark in a Concrete Deadzone
I am the only thing that isn't oxidized in this
