| Buried deep under blood and skin
|
| A whisper a tempest is raging from within
|
| I hold my breath, bitter proud
|
| Afraid to scream fire in the middle of a crowd
|
| I ponder incision, envision the brain
|
| I beckon the surgeon to a slice against the grain
|
| Now that I’ve waisted you
|
| The white room is pure, the doctors are brave
|
| If there’s a cure I want to be saved, Sanctuary
|
| Under the knife sharp and shiny key
|
| Repair, redeem, resurrection
|
| Under the knife they’ll cut you out of me
|
| Maybe love’s imitation is life, under the knife
|
| I have come to define a of sins
|
| In a black dream, a court room where the triumph never ends
|
| I have come to determine a reasonable doubt
|
| Where heaven and hell draw their boundary lines abound
|
| Now that I’ve wasted you, now that I’ve tasted you
|
| White room had frost on the cold window pane
|
| Your love had been lost, my love was in vain, Sanctuary
|
| Under the knife sharp and shiny key
|
| Repair, redeem, resurrection, yeah
|
| Under the knife, they’ll cut you out of me
|
| Maybe dreams can be larger than life
|
| Under the knife, yeah
|
| Cynical splices, stitch and install
|
| Solder the filaments, I feel nothing at all
|
| Second wind secrets, let them rise let them fall
|
| I’ll walk through your firestorm but never never crawl
|
| Gambler lives, the blood stain dries
|
| It’s time to forgive, I open my eyes, Sanctuary
|
| Under the knife sharp and shiny key
|
| Repair, redeem, resurrection
|
| Under the knife they’ll cut you out of me
|
| Maybe love’s imitation is life, under the knife
|
| Under the knife sharp and shiny key
|
| Repair, redeem, resurrection
|
| Under the knife they’ll cut you out of me
|
| Maybe dreams can be larger than life
|
| Under the knife, yeah |