Unbounded Frame Lyrics

	作词 : 佘晨扬
	作曲 : Psychopress
	Bound and gagged in omnipresent fearsome darkness.
	In dead silence, I take heed of his presence.
	He comes close to me, and soon gives me a guarantee.
	I can feel he has his intentions concealed.
	But to stand or kneel – no good would either yield.
	‘Such a wretch you are!()
	Sneakin' in when I let my guard down.
	I’ve seen too much and had enough,
	but am I just calling my bluff?’
	PTSD, conscience-stricken somehow.
	PTSD, suspicions aroused.
	‘Never conform to favoured norms.’
	The outrageous siren calls to me when I am in the thick of the fight.
	Slowly, I sink into lethargy.
	All these poignant struggles, when I step aside from confrontations, never hint that I'm justified.
	Whenever the neutrality's maintained, I can feel the pain and the false guilt again.
	‘Another failure confirms our defects by nature.
	Mortality is torture through the snake in the orchard.’
	PTSD, contrition assumed.
	PTSD, repetitions doomed.

	zuo ci : she chen yang
	zuo qu : Psychopress
	Bound and gagged in omnipresent fearsome darkness.
	In dead silence, I take heed of his presence.
	He comes close to me, and soon gives me a guarantee.
	I can feel he has his intentions concealed.
	But to stand or kneel no good would either yield.
	' Such a wretch you are!
	Sneakin' in when I let my guard down.
	I' ve seen too much and had enough,
	but am I just calling my bluff?'
	PTSD, consciencestricken somehow.
	PTSD, suspicions aroused.
	' Never conform to favoured norms.'
	The outrageous siren calls to me when I am in the thick of the fight.
	Slowly, I sink into lethargy.
	All these poignant struggles, when I step aside from confrontations, never hint that I' m justified.
	Whenever the neutrality' s maintained, I can feel the pain and the false guilt again.
	' Another failure confirms our defects by nature.
	Mortality is torture through the snake in the orchard.'
	PTSD, contrition assumed.
	PTSD, repetitions doomed.

	zuò cí : shé chén yáng
	zuò qǔ : Psychopress
	Bound and gagged in omnipresent fearsome darkness.
	In dead silence, I take heed of his presence.
	He comes close to me, and soon gives me a guarantee.
	I can feel he has his intentions concealed.
	But to stand or kneel no good would either yield.
	' Such a wretch you are!
	Sneakin' in when I let my guard down.
	I' ve seen too much and had enough,
	but am I just calling my bluff?'
	PTSD, consciencestricken somehow.
	PTSD, suspicions aroused.
	' Never conform to favoured norms.'
	The outrageous siren calls to me when I am in the thick of the fight.
	Slowly, I sink into lethargy.
	All these poignant struggles, when I step aside from confrontations, never hint that I' m justified.
	Whenever the neutrality' s maintained, I can feel the pain and the false guilt again.
	' Another failure confirms our defects by nature.
	Mortality is torture through the snake in the orchard.'
	PTSD, contrition assumed.
	PTSD, repetitions doomed.

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