I see you watching I see your old rusty hands I see you drawing your lines trough the things they do The talk and the walk and the teeth and the spaces in between Yeah, I know how to steal, because I learned from you.
You are the rot, you are the underline, You're the fault beneath the plan And all you've ever built is with the coldest hands And I was the fix, I was the anchor, I was the card up your sleeve, But all I ever did was wait and say please.
The moon and the sky and blood and the bones And the rocks and the shadows on the walls They're riddled with our faces, names, And waste of our collective thoughts.
When we were young we shaped the world. Like it was clay beneath our hands. And as far as we were concerned It was ours to damn And now we're older, not quite so bold, As we've got the coldest hands As we mess things up So do us all a favor As come wreck our plans Before we smash you against the walls.
Compositor: Benjamin P Cooper (ASCAP)Editores: Penny Farthing Music (ASCAP), Roy Berry Works At Planet Radio, The Bicycle Music CompanyECAD verificado obra #5492064 em 21/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM