This is it
The nights that stand on two
The morning breakfast blues
We must not hold back what keeps us intact
Our secret, tired, lonely eyes
Still we keep our necks high
And while your cons and everlongs all sound the best
A plague builds from the space between your shirt and your chest
Sp save is the phrase "A sight for bored lives"
We're just a city of Hamlets, minus surprise
So from the end to the start, wolf tickets aside
Welcome home a premature suicide.
The nights that stand on two
The morning breakfast blues
We must not hold back what keeps us intact
Our secret, tired, lonely eyes
Still we keep our necks high
And while your cons and everlongs all sound the best
A plague builds from the space between your shirt and your chest
Sp save is the phrase "A sight for bored lives"
We're just a city of Hamlets, minus surprise
So from the end to the start, wolf tickets aside
Welcome home a premature suicide.
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