Knee deep and born into it, You didn't ask for this and don't i know it? A father's son, We couldn't hope for less. Pry these workds from my cold dead lips, Home is where the heart is.
And the ghosts i draw Will leave you cold. A bankrupt father To skin and bones.
I'm moving over; I'm making room for you. I'm making room.
I will occupy the space between What you say and what you mean. And you say That the devil's in the detail. And if that's true When he is through with me he will Sure as hell be after you.
And the ghosts i draw Will leave you cold. A bankrupt father To skin and bones.
We escape, we escape, we escape With our minds made up. We escape, we escape, we escape And our time is up.
