| I see your home in my head, and the tower in flames | |
| I'll sing a song of the dead, the chanson sane | |
| It's drilling holes in my pocket | |
| I'll never ever stop yet | |
| Fill my soul with your docket and your calm frame | |
| You know I (x 4) | |
| The cold wind blows you it's kisses | |
| The darkness takes them away | |
| Just a slave to it's wishes | |
| Just a slave to it's ways | |
| So go and do your dirty dishes | |
| Lay restless and suspicious | |
| Be the prey amongst the hunters that killed your dishes | |
| Go sing a song of light and hope | |
| But never believe both | |
| Go turn the injured to the mains | |
| With your calm frame | |
| You know I (x 4) | |
| The cold wind blows you it's kisses | |
| The darkness takes them away | |
| Just a slave to it's wishes | |
| Just a slave to it's ways | |
| The cold wind blows you it's kisses | |
| The darkness takes them away, oh | |
| Just a slave to it's wishes, oh | |
| Just a slave to it's ways |
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