| Outside it's nighttime and you're mine again
|
| Red lights and thick frost are clothing all the land
|
| Your breath draws a cloud on the window of our car
|
| Our eyes exhausted, still begging for more
|
| Engraved in wildness, have we gone too far?
|
| Somewhere four wheels unwind the roar of their power
|
| This road is a snake skin, glittering and bald
|
| Like a reptile, that gash the frozen soil
|
| The world is not ours
|
| But faster than the rain
|
| We cut the night
|
| We're random bullets, love
|
| Shot by some drunken god
|
| Guilty only, of growing old
|
| Hours like fires, burning our beliefs
|
| Soon the sun will rise up and sew us in its dreams
|
| Forgetting that we're sailors, without wind in our sails
|
| Twins by the heartbeat until the morning brakes
|
| Dismissed in dizziness, and begging for more
|
| Have we ever noticed that nothing last for ever?
|
| Faces toward the sky, 'cause the unknown is sublime
|
| Printing every hour in polaroids of mine
|
| The world is not ours
|
| But faster than the rain
|
| We cut the night
|
| We're random bullets, love
|
| Shot by some drunken god
|
| Oh guilty only, oh guilty only
|
| Of growing old, of growing old
|
| Of growing old, of growing old
|
| Of growing old
|
| Hours like fires, burning our beliefs
|
| Truth is right there baby, even if we bleed
|
| Night roads are coal coats on the muscles
|
| Of the world, leading us to nowhere
|
| 'Cause nowhere is our home
|
| Nowhere is our home
|
| Oh guilty only, of growing old
|
| We're random bullets, love
|
| The world is not ours
|
| But faster than the rain
|
| We cut the night
|
| We're random bullets, love
|
| The world is not ours
|
| But faster than the rain
|
| We cut the night |