- cifra
End of october, sun's fallen over
Wolves on the street, Wolves on the street
Roaming, howling
Smoke in the distance, strangers are calling
Paid for your time, paid for your time boy
Hold on hold on
Oh
He's not underground
He's not in the air
He's not in that book
You take everywhere
The Devil wears a suit
He lives in our town
He lives on our street
In your home, in your bed
Aren't you the bright one?
Aren't you the trooper?
Where did you go, where have you been son?
Nowhere, with noone
Talking in circles, point of confusion
Who needs a hug? who need a hug then?
You do you do
Oh
House of your friendly local accomplice
Shoes at the door, shoes at the door please
mind your secrets
Out in the garden
Under the elk weed
Ribs in the dirt, ribs in a dirt heap
Silence, silence
