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How do you get right? |
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With one eye closed so tight |
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Slipping backwards |
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Falling prey to plastic eyes |
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So hard to walk straight |
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For the style has made you sway |
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In every cabaret |
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On every strip that bears your name |
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Open your eyes; you are standing empty and cold |
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Open your mouth if your voice can never be sold |
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Burn the bridge down |
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Take the long road into town |
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Where all the bastards |
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And the witches mark their ground |
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In the corners |
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Where the lost souls have been found |
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There lies a purpose |
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Before yourself dead in the ground |
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Open your eyes; you are standing empty and cold |
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Open your mouth if your voice can never be sold |
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I only know hearts made of stone rarely sail far |
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And may never reach home |
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And so is the cost to live dead ands lost |
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Searching the stars to find which is ours |
