Superstition Lyrics
| Song | Superstition |
| Artist | The Birthday Massacre |
| Album | Superstition |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| I walk out to the edge of the lake, | |
| eyes following the water | |
| as it washes my convictions away. | |
| He stops me when I’m starting to pray. | |
| He says, | |
| “Intuition is awakening suspicion.” | |
| He says, | |
| “My tradition is the art of superstition.” | |
| I wake up in the light of the fire, | |
| eyes burning like the ashes | |
| in submission to the heat of desire. | |
| He tells me not to preach to the choir. | |
| He says, | |
| “This condition is a slow decomposition.” | |
| He says, | |
| “My religion is the practice of sedition.” | |
| He says | |
| He says, | |
| “Intuition is awakening suspicion.” | |
| He says, | |
| “My tradition is the art of superstition.” | |
| “This condition is a slow decomposition.” | |
| He says, | |
| “My religion is the practice of sedition.” |
| I walk out to the edge of the lake, | |
| eyes following the water | |
| as it washes my convictions away. | |
| He stops me when I' m starting to pray. | |
| He says, | |
| " Intuition is awakening suspicion." | |
| He says, | |
| " My tradition is the art of superstition." | |
| I wake up in the light of the fire, | |
| eyes burning like the ashes | |
| in submission to the heat of desire. | |
| He tells me not to preach to the choir. | |
| He says, | |
| " This condition is a slow decomposition." | |
| He says, | |
| " My religion is the practice of sedition." | |
| He says | |
| He says, | |
| " Intuition is awakening suspicion." | |
| He says, | |
| " My tradition is the art of superstition." | |
| " This condition is a slow decomposition." | |
| He says, | |
| " My religion is the practice of sedition." |
| I walk out to the edge of the lake, | |
| eyes following the water | |
| as it washes my convictions away. | |
| He stops me when I' m starting to pray. | |
| He says, | |
| " Intuition is awakening suspicion." | |
| He says, | |
| " My tradition is the art of superstition." | |
| I wake up in the light of the fire, | |
| eyes burning like the ashes | |
| in submission to the heat of desire. | |
| He tells me not to preach to the choir. | |
| He says, | |
| " This condition is a slow decomposition." | |
| He says, | |
| " My religion is the practice of sedition." | |
| He says | |
| He says, | |
| " Intuition is awakening suspicion." | |
| He says, | |
| " My tradition is the art of superstition." | |
| " This condition is a slow decomposition." | |
| He says, | |
| " My religion is the practice of sedition." |
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