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Oh, it touches, itches, bites, and wastes the time |
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Trying not to be in love with what is mine |
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With sirens singing |
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All the big things that we hate, we cry about |
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Will turn to gold if we just leave them out |
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Then let's hope |
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His silence |
|
Is with us tonight |
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I'll bring |
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The camera |
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Can you hold the light? |
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The dusty pages of the book that wakes the dead |
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Say don't hold dear the times that we once had |
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It's a pleasure hoping for the things to come |
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A little patience and the blood will run |
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Then let's hope |
|
His silence |
|
Is with us tonight |
|
I'll bring |
|
The poison |
|
Can you bring the knife? |
