I let my hands get caught in all the flame Well I cannot play again When do you ask me if I am okay I see it when we dance
And make a pouter's portrait on the steps Oh my it is divine But there's just one more question I will ask Is all this really mine?
Inside my head hell screams it must be time This weather can't be right We rode our horses to the outer edge The crusty dry devide
And we became the people we had never meant to be Those dying flames The pieces we did not want to receive
And when you come home from your dinner's darling do you want to fight? And when I cut the line within my hands will you still want to cry?
And when your gal decides she's on her own You'll rethink your romance You never wanted careful anyway You're taking down that fence
But when you come into the kitchen I am waiting at the sink My salty fingers run across the cupboard Drenching it with skin
We are alive Those rare descendants of the faithless brats Who bit their tongues Who screamed instead to scare their unworth sons
And in the trees they built their truth Their meaningless machines
We grew from beans that froze beneath the snow in late '16Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
