I don’t wanna lose to that guy
Dying until I got fed up with my frailty
The mongrel of midsummer, his pretense defiled by the wind, felt the primal impulse and laughed
Am I the same, too?
The two of us snarling at each other, our bond of pain, our shadows entangling – that’s where the primal impulse is
Blasting it up, sailing alone before we talk – that’s where the primal impulse is
The season of spring in the hide that I tear from you, making you into a mess – that’s where the primal impulse is
Everything that you and I compete for, stretching our limits, is the primal impulse
I don’t wanna lose to that guy
I hate it so much, I can’t stand it
From the hide that lifted when the beasts of midsummer sank their teeth into me, the primal impulse burst forth and growled
What about you?
The two of us snarling at each other, our bond of pain, our shadows entangling – that’s where the primal impulse is
Blasting it up, sailing alone before we talk – that’s where the primal impulse is
The season of spring in the hide that I tear from you, making you into a mess – that’s where the primal impulse is
Everything that you and I compete for, stretching our limits, is the primal impulse
This is the primal impulse
