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The handle on the door you cannot touch |
|
The knot in the woods you cannot cut |
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A good thing we had too much |
|
Smoke is rising above |
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The fire's getting hotter in the wind |
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And you're cold blackened eyes looking odd |
|
Going blind |
|
|
|
A splinter deep inside your second skin |
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The princess feeling nothing underneath |
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And no wonder it doesn't feel the same |
|
|
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Everybody's asking when you're ever coming back |
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And you tell them that you're sorry but you're frozen in your tracks |
|
The foxes in the headlights never knowing it was wrong |
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Staring down the righteous road that is lonely and is long |
|
|
|
The photographs and pictures that we drew |
|
Remind us that we won't be going through |
|
And I wondered do they even look the same |
|
I wondered do they even look the same |
|
|
|
Now it's going faster and we're stuck here in this place |
|
The water's getting deeper |
|
Cutting lines into my face |
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The lights are out and broken |
|
It looks different in the dark |
|
They're out there setting fires |
|
You need to make your mark |
|
|
|
Another slippery stone |
|
We thought that it was dry |
|
And flat enough to stand |
|
We trusted until we died |
|
We don't really know |
|
We think that we are wise |
|
Deaf and dumb and blind |
|
We think that we have eyes |
|
|
|
|
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Deaf and dumb and blind |
|
We think that we have eyes |
|
|
|
.. |
