| The torture won’t part you
|
| Motherly breast won’t warm you
|
| You fail and foam from your mouth
|
| Why is it so loud, this sound?
|
| All the sense you are capable of
|
| Does not seem to save you
|
| You heed the glance of a smile
|
| Was it impossible to float for a while?
|
| Restless is carrying fever
|
| Burning you to pieces
|
| In search and need of a friend
|
| Will I bow down to this in the end?
|
| I lay in the hands of my maker
|
| And I want to spend the rest of it awake
|
| Why do I get the feeling they’ll brake it
|
| It’s a fight
|
| It’s a fight
|
| The torture won’t part you
|
| Mothers lap can’t seem to warm you
|
| You strain, you climb up and frown
|
| Why is it so loud, this down?
|
| All the sense you are capable of
|
| Does not seem to save you
|
| You heed the glance of a smile
|
| Was it impossible to float for a while?
|
| (ah ah ah)
|
| I lay in the hands of my maker
|
| And I want to spend the rest of it awake
|
| Why do I get the feeling they’ll brake it
|
| It’s a fight
|
| It’s a fight
|
| I lay in the hands of my maker
|
| And I want to spend the rest of it awake
|
| Why do I get the feeling they’ll brake it
|
| It’s a fight
|
| (ah ah ah) |