I'm ready to blow
|
It's not my fault
|
Don't waste a four-leaf clover
|
Good happens to the owner
|
Just wait, when the leaves fall
|
They go below your faults
|
Now you're just boring me to death
|
I've got a catacomb underneath the same place I lay my head
|
I've gotta bury them blind and then control what they find
|
I'm hanging on a thread
|
You know I'm ready to blow like I've told you I would
|
Out of nothing you find your own authority
|
Cleanse the water to send your holy blessings
|
I'm flying solo, I'm falling so low, where do we go
|
Out of nothing you find your own authority
|
Forbidden honor will go as far as atrophy
|
I'm flying solo
|
I'll go
|
Now you're just boring me to death
|
I've got a cataract focused on a shaky conscience at best (shaky guest)
|
I've got to make up my mind and try to make up some time
|
I'm hanging on a thread
|
You know I'm ready to blow, but not quite yet
|
You know I'm ready to fold, can't count my cards yet
|
You know I'm ready to forget all we've been through
|
You know I'm ready for you
|
The shaken are desperate for new sounds on old ground
|
To bury reflections,
|
infections from strong hands in weak glands
|
And when they're awakened their vision will fade
|
It aint a bit of my fault
|
I'm gonna miss her
|
|
-----------------
|
Miracle Mile
|
Before Braille |