Some have to see to believe it
Others are blind and can feel it
The flame burns as thick as the wick
Dwelling darkness inside, of the withering minds....
Is this the part where we start our lives?
What a sight for the sore eyes?
It's getting colder in here it's sobering
To see them shuffle to the back of the line
While they suffer in fear, the marks that we make are so clear
Quivering thoughts now surround you
Engulfed by the times that we undo.
The ties that hold shadows at bay
Are unbound and undone
All but the one
Here comes the part where we start our lives
What a sight for the sore eyes?
It's getting colder in here it's sobering
To see them shuffle to the back of the line
While they suffer in fear, the marks that we make are so clear
Why does nothing want to make us want to try?
We're too close to look behind
Just one touch, we could change so much
On the edge I stand preparing to go... but
I feel I've already been here
What a sight for the sore eyes?
It's colder in here it's sobering
To see them shuffle to the back of the line
While they march in in fear, the marks that we make are so clear
Some have to see to believe it Others are blind and can feel it The flame burns as thick as the wick Dwelling darkness inside, of the withering minds....
Is this the part where we start our lives?
What a sight for the sore eyes? It's getting colder in here it's sobering To see them shuffle to the back of the line While they suffer in fear, the marks that we make are so clear
Quivering thoughts now surround you Engulfed by the times that we undo. The ties that hold shadows at bay Are unbound and undone All but the one
Here comes the part where we start our lives
What a sight for the sore eyes? It's getting colder in here it's sobering To see them shuffle to the back of the line While they suffer in fear, the marks that we make are so clear
Why does nothing want to make us want to try? We're too close to look behind Just one touch, we could change so much On the edge I stand preparing to go... but I feel I've already been here
What a sight for the sore eyes? It's colder in here it's sobering To see them shuffle to the back of the line While they march in in fear, the marks that we make are so clear