| How long since I got some sleep | |
| How long since she grew her hair to keep | |
| The night from getting colder for | |
| The owl living upon her shoulder | |
| ('Cause) One way or the other she will drink my blood like wine | |
| The only question left is whether that day the horns will sound | |
| (And) One way or the other it will keep me dragging on | |
| For hell knows how long | |
| (And) Now the carnival band is gone | |
| This land reaching from the riverside where it begins to the hour where it ends | |
| It belongs to me or at least that's what she pretends | |
| (And) One way or the other she will drink my blood like wine | |
| The only question left is whether that day the horns will sound | |
| (And) One way or the other it will keep me dragging on | |
| For hell knows how long | |
| Like the oldest was sent ahead of the other | |
| In the middle of a small town where everybody sleeps with friend and enemy one after the other | |
| Yeah baby that's where we were born for each other | |
| Raise your glass to the nighttime and the ways | |
| To choose a mood and have it replaced | |
| [6x] |
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