|
During the laceration |
|
All you want to do is cry |
|
But it laughs at realisation |
|
How quickly fresh blood dries |
|
Needs no explanation |
|
It's gonna take a lot of time |
|
Ideas above our station |
|
And over the fog in my mind |
|
When I see I see my signs |
|
And it's the same face |
|
Presenting the same lie |
|
If you keep walking sideways, |
|
If you keep changing your mind |
|
Always the same face |
|
Presenting the same lie |
|
If you keep sideways |
|
If you keep changing your mind |
|
When I see, I see my signs |
|
When I see, I see my signs |
|
Obsolete, your voices are |
|
They say, silence, it sometimes pays |
|
In war, silence, it sometimes pays |
|
They say, silence, it sometimes pays |
|
In war, silence, it sometimes pays |
|
Souls and windows, stops existing |
|
Holes where his eyes used to be |
|
Needle and thread hold together |
|
His love for the dead, all new savior |
|
Saw the seashore, unfamilar |
|
The water and oil, unfamiliar |
|
Success and toil, unfamiliar |
|
Unaccustomed, unfamiliar |
