|
Balanced, on the edge of a knife* |
|
In love with the night, |
|
So I'll ignore the cracks in the ice. |
|
And I'll raise my glass, |
|
Sing a toast to the end of all things baby, |
|
'Cos daylight won't wait for me. |
|
Oh, what has become of me? |
|
Turn the lights out 'cos I don't want to see, |
|
What I've become. |
|
I'm condemned to walk the night, |
|
And I don't care, |
|
No I don't care. |
|
'Cos in the morning light, |
|
The mirror lies, |
|
'Cos I'm not there |
|
No, I'm not there. |
|
Now I'm, become destroyer of worlds, |
|
At the very least my own, |
|
So I'll sit on the tracks and I'll wait. |
|
And I'll raise my glass, |
|
Sing a toast to the end of all things baby, |
|
But I'm drinking alone. |
|
Oh what has become of me? |
|
Turn the lights out cos I don't want to see, |
|
What I've become. |
|
I'm condemned, to walk the night, |
|
And I don't care, |
|
No I don't care. |
|
'Cos in the morning light, |
|
The mirror lies, |
|
'Cos I'm not there |
|
No I'm not there. |
|
You, you are the sun, |
|
And if you are the sun, |
|
You can keep me in the dark. |
|
What have I become? |
|
Horns where there were none before. |
|
What have I become? |
|
Horns where there were none before. |
|
So just leave me in the dark. |
|
What have I become? |
|
Horns where there were none before. |
|
What have I become? |
|
Horns where there were none before. |