Just move along
|
There's nothing to see here
|
Just flashing lights that simmer
|
In pools that catch their crimson
|
|
As the spectacle unfolds
|
On tiptoes, bells, and whispers
|
This collision's reality
|
Is made to match mine
|
|
Just move along
|
The party is over
|
All these frantic nights alone
|
Surrounded by throbbing hopefuls
|
|
No future promise
|
No photos allowed
|
Nothing safe behind the shroud
|
|
As the spectacle unfolds
|
On tiptoes, horns, and whistles
|
This collision's reality
|
Is made to match mine
|
Is made to match mine
|
|
Now I'll cross the plane
|
That stands in between
|
The safe and the sane
|
And your army
|
|
As the spectacle unfolds
|
On tiptoes, glass, and fragments
|
This collision's reality
|
Is made to match mine
|
Is made to match mine
|
Is made to match mine
|
|
-----------------
|
This Collision
|
| Mad at Gravity |
