| I want to write your name into my flesh
|
| I want to be in love with myself again
|
| I want to bring it down
|
| I want to bring it down
|
| I believe that things are changing
|
| Where is the gain in all the hell you bring
|
| In the search for something new?
|
| Because the birds won’t sing when their cages stink
|
| So think of something else to say
|
| Because things are changing
|
| I want to write your name into my flesh
|
| I want to be in love with myself again
|
| I want to bring it down
|
| I want to bring it down
|
| I believe that things are changing
|
| Your hands, held tight around
|
| The throat of what it is to live these days
|
| And we choke on the pain feed into our heads
|
| We’re not gonna be here when you get back
|
| I want to write your name into my flesh
|
| I want to be in love with myself again
|
| I want to bring it down
|
| I want to bring it down
|
| I believe that things are changing
|
| For the best
|
| And all the rest into the flood
|
| All of me has to bleed
|
| But part of me has got to be alive
|
| I want to write your name into my flesh
|
| I want to be in love with myself again
|
| I want to bring it down
|
| I want to bring it down
|
| I believe that
|
| I want to write your name into my flesh
|
| I want to be in love with myself again
|
| I want to bring it down
|
| I want to bring it down
|
| I believe that things are changing
|
| I want to write your name into my flesh
|
| I want to be in love with myself again |