Bleeding over phone lines, voice and vibration spilled like rain on broken pavement, and you have fallen, fallen from grace. By fair-weather friends, wolves in white wool baying, now you're dead in my eyes. Always begging for more, more blood more saltine tears, more sweat off the brows of desperate men, cut to the bone by these thorns Bleeding over phone lines, voice and vibrations, I still, I still feel, as if I let you die. This machine is a rusted quest gone dry, I feel submerged in this flesh covered vessel, you take the knife and you slice to the core. Remove my heart that tears oxidized to orange. I'm broken and you fucking know it. You turned your backs on me, you turned your backs on us. You turned your backs on us, brotherhood took its own life, seeing the pain it bred. You turn your back on me. Bleeding over phone lines, voice and vibration spilled like rain on broken pavement, and you have fallen, fallen from grace, by fair-weather friends, wolves in white wool, baying, now you're dead in my eyes.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
