| Listening down the pause
|
| Now I can play at odds
|
| I can feel your car lights
|
| Narrowing past the bend
|
| Now I can take a stand
|
| Falling for the last times
|
| And you ask if I’ve a sermon
|
| Holier virgins
|
| Disappearing invites
|
| And you ask if I’m in danger
|
| Holier saviour
|
| Love amongst the last rights
|
| Syphoning throough the fog
|
| Wonder if there’s a god
|
| I can feel their car lights
|
| Peeling of vaseline
|
| Now don’t you make a scene
|
| Glares of frozen joy rides
|
| And you ask if I’ve a corner
|
| Holy adorner
|
| Must reveal the end-times
|
| And you ask if I would hurt you
|
| Holier curfews
|
| Simulate the insides
|
| If you want me as a vulture
|
| I’ll pretend
|
| Why must I feel the end, again
|
| If the verdicts never start in my defence
|
| Why must I feel the end, again
|
| Again
|
| All descend
|
| We can feel the end, again
|
| I’ll descend
|
| We can feel the end, again
|
| I’ll descend
|
| We can feel the end, again
|
| All descend
|
| We can feel the end, again |