I never sleep anymore.
I blame it on industry.
The money's not piling up.
This fresh air is killing me.
Counting every cigarette,
every bottle you drank dry,
every woman who slept in your bed,
every bright day turned to dark night.

Let's talk a while about your weaknesses
and how the lines begin to blur
and how there's something wrong in each of us.
Love is gonna take some work.

How long has it been
since you've seen the hands of God
moving anything except for the wind
in this god-forsaken town?
Underneath years of dust,
in the darkness I was
dried up in death and washed in the blood.
And I can't tell the difference.

I want to be free.
I want to live well.
I don't want to speak.
I don't want to tell.

Let's talk a while about the distances.
Highway lines begin to blur.
I feel so helpless in my own skin.
And love is gonna take some work.

Lyrics submitted by kurtalert

Black Sunday song meanings
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