| I shake through the wreckage for signs of life
|
| Scrolling through the paragraphs
|
| Clicking through the photographs
|
| I wish I could make sense of what we do Burning down the capitols
|
| Wisest of the animals
|
| Who are you, what are you living for
|
| Tooth for tooth, maybe we’ll go one more
|
| This life, is lived in perfect symmetry
|
| What I do, that will be done to me Write page after page of analysis
|
| Looking for the final score
|
| We’re no closer than we were before
|
| Who are you, what are you fighting for
|
| Holy truth, brother I chose this mortal life
|
| lived in perfect symmetry
|
| What I do, that will be done to me As the needle, slips into the run out groove
|
| Love, maybe you feel it too
|
| And maybe you find, life is unkind
|
| and over so soon
|
| There is no golden gate
|
| There’s no heaven waiting for you
|
| Oh boy you otta leave this town
|
| get out while you can
|
| the needle’s running out
|
| The voices in the streets you love
|
| everything is better when you hear that shout
|
| woooaohhh
|
| woooaohhh
|
| woooaohhh
|
| spineless dreamers, hide in churches
|
| pieces of pieces of rush hour buses
|
| I dream in emails, worn out phrases
|
| mile after mile of just empty pages
|
| wrap yourself around me wrap yourself around me as the needle, slips into the run out groove
|
| maybe i’ll feel it too
|
| maybe you’ll feel it too
|
| maybe you’ll feel it too
|
| maybe you’ll feel it too
|
| I dream in emails, worn out phrases
|
| mile after mile of just empty pages |