This is a final sign of what we cannot take.
You forced a bitter end to this story.
The walls are closing down to this place we live.
Say your last goodbyes, not to me cause.
This seperation will explode.
A starry sea, awakening. A fascination with this old style sence
of right and wrong.
What's wrong with me, it's hard to speak when it's all about the
way we hold a gun at our own mouths.
A fatal blinding sight. It's the price I pay for looking through
the sun for a change. The walls are closing down and eventually,
we say our last goodbyes, we see.
This seperation will explode.
A starry sea, awakening. A fascination with this old style sence
of right and wrong.
What's wrong with me, it's hard to speak when it's all about the
way we hold a gun at our own mouths.
Wrong start! Flag down!
This seperation will explode.
A starry sea, awakening. A fascination with this old style sence
of right and wrong.
What's wrong with me, it's hard to speak when it's all about the
way we hold a gun at our own mouths.
In our own mouths. Hold a gun.
Don't throw a fit!
