---

You won't get out alive if I have my way about it
The jokes will all conspire for your concern then go on without it
Your throat's the wild and fiery setting off all my doubts and mistrust
The rows have riled up an idle minded soul equipped to kick up a fuss

Form a line in the cold night air
While a horses head is at the corner of your speakers' bed
Just give me someone to blame to give me something to prove

The frozen soldiers will know their way through time to turn them into us
Your broken hopes and false idols paved the way to end up here at the cusp
Of a stolen story whose found familiar tastes, stings you down to your guts
And you won't get out alive if I have my way about it

Form a line in the cold night air
While a horses head is at the corner of your speakers' bed
Just give me someone to blame to give me something to prove
Fester over all my reckless intentions
It's just another form of sick and twisted fanfare
Just keep repeating my name and I'll decide on the truth

Form a line in the cold night air
While a horses head is at the corner of your speakers' bed
Fester over all my reckless intentions
It's just another form of sick and twisted fanfare

---

Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.