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Did you ever really think that you'd |
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Expose the truth that pains the page? |
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And in their asking, did you see their lie, |
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The motive true and earnest side |
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Four in the morning, should they wake up? |
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Or see them precious in this sleep? |
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Every step should break the same |
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With every move and every need |
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So run little children, play |
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I'll leave the light off to turn your mother on |
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So run little children, play |
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I'll leave the light off to turn your mother on |
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Could you ever really wish of them? |
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One of your games and counts of truth |
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With every moment you'll trace the doubt |
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And of the premise what about? |
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Will they ever really see an end |
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Or does it matter now from then? |
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What of their love for once pronounced |
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And of this love a loss without |
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So run little children, play |
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I'll leave the light off to turn your mother on |
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So run little children, play |
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I'll leave the light off to turn your mother on |
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I should have known |
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God only knows when your word isn't pure |
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And the blood on your hands isn't yours |
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I won't believe any word that you tell |
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And I won't drink the blood if it spills |
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So give them the story they want... |
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You too |
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So give them the story they want... |
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A kiss to you girl before you fall down and leave me |
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So give them the story they want... |
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You too |
|
So give them the story they want... |
|
A kiss to you girl before you fall down and leave me |
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So give them the story they want... |
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You too, before you leave me |
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So give them the story they want... |
|
You too, before you leave me |
|
So give them the story they want... |
|
You too, before you leave me |
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So give them the story they want... |
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You too, before you leave me |
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God only knows when your word isn't pure |
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And the blood on your hands isn't yours |
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I won't believe any word that you tell |
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And I won't drink the blood if it spills |
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God only knows when your word isn't pure |
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And the blood on your hands isn't yours |
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I won't believe any word that you tell |
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And I won't drink the blood if it spills |
