Will the worries that trouble you so
be an anchor commandeered coat?
The weight that drags your life past the far ends of control.

It’s the manner of men and of mimes.
Our stitched lips are safes for the motives.
And the bottled lives cry,
"I hope the rain of rocks is mild!"

That old arcade ghost haunts you.

Fault lines draw the balance beams that we tip toe.
Our lives dangle just above the fingers of fire,
when worth is woe.
Fault lines draw the balance beams that we tip toe.
Our lives dangle just above the fingers of fire,
We hold for hope...

Above the fire...

Swell. thats just swell.
crack the safe, feed the lions that parade hungry eyes far below
the surface of safety we patrol.
Young acrobats we learn the distance.

Thought it wiser to play us a game.
It’s a gamble and the table won’t pay.
Shall we set our watch as the youth desire expires?

You cant sleep in that mess, though you tried.
the fever licked your brow with a cold sweat.
and the shakes you couldn't quiet wore your teeth down in the night.

That old cliche that worked you.

Fault lines draw the balance beams that we tip toe.
Our lives dangle just above the fingers of fire,
when worth is woe.
Fault lines draw the balance beams that we tip toe.
Our lives dangle just above the fingers of fire,
We hold for hope...


Lyrics submitted by hacika

The Great Gamble song meanings
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