|
The sun says nothing |
|
About my demise, |
|
I fall to the floor. |
|
Sparks from your stare, |
|
Cascade into mind, |
|
The start of a war. |
|
Monday morning, |
|
Hungover, red eyes |
|
Hide it all the way. |
|
We walk through a crowd of strangers, |
|
Two minutes from your door, |
|
You've lived there all your life. |
|
Starts a celebration in me, |
|
Till I've got nothing left, |
|
I've got nothing left. |
|
Out of it you'll handle it for everyone. |
|
Took a poison dart through my heart and then I'm gone. |
|
Out of it you'll handle it for everyone. |
|
Took a poison dart through my heart and then I'm gone. |
|
Every conversation within you, |
|
Starts a celebration in me, |
|
Till I've got nothing left, |
|
I've got nothing left. |
|
These floorboards are creaking, |
|
My body is old, |
|
The sun casts a shadow, |
|
A gust that cuts through your bones, |
|
Your body and soul. |
|
These floorboards are creaking, |
|
My body is old, |
|
The sun casts a shadow, |
|
A gust that cuts through your bones, |
|
Your body and soul. |
|
Every conversation within you, |
|
It starts a celebration in me, |
|
Till I've got nothing left, |
|
I've got nothing left. |
|
I've got nothing left. |
|
I've got nothing left. |
|
No, I've got nothing left. |
|
I've got nothing left. |
