| Lies that imply the space
|
| We’ll be friends with the enemies
|
| Lost in your sense of taste
|
| Did you know you were next to me?
|
| Labor days, wounded hearts
|
| How we fade, how false we start
|
| I’m stuck on this Long Island beach
|
| Where I’ll make an army for my enemies
|
| A faint disarray of intention
|
| And I’m a guest of your invention
|
| What’s the rest of this dance?
|
| Does the promise of this just end?
|
| Just to we get what we can
|
| Well there’s too much within your head
|
| Labor days, wounded hearts
|
| How we fade, how false we start
|
| I’m stuck on this Long Island beach
|
| Where I’ll make an army for my enemies
|
| Cut the loss, cut the time
|
| I don’t ask, behind your eyes
|
| Shadow bonds can make a friend
|
| How I missed the shadow games
|
| Labor days, wounded hearts
|
| How we fade, how false we start
|
| I’m stuck on this Long Island beach
|
| Where I’ll make an army for my enemies |