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One, two, three, four |
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Well the silence hasn't been broken |
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As we reach the point of utter disgust |
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As the weeks drag on, the lies unfold |
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The alcohol loses its touch |
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And I once held your words close to my heart |
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With a knife protecting all of them |
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But now we've made our beds in a deep, dense forest |
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We're sound |
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We'll never take the blame |
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As I dig my hands in the cold, dark dirt |
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In a search for roots now lost forever |
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With one last great hope of a messiah |
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I check the time and admit to the surrender terms |
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Remember the days when I had a conscience? |
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Yeah, me neither |
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And I'm warning you |
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And I'm warning you |
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That I can't seem to tell |
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If it's my head or the earth that's spinning around |
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I can't seem to tell anymore |
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I can't seem to tell |
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If it's my head or the earth that's spinning around |
|
I can't seem to tell |
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I can't seem to tell |
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If it's my head or the earth that's spinning around |
