This planet's old, cold, dead, and crashing into us.
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You gotta know I'm no "End Of Days" man.
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That piece doesn't go.
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Just tug at the frayed ends.
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Pull it (you) apart.
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(Circles and squares surround us, we need to hide.)
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No fingers.
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No feelings.
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I'd push the buttons.
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But I can't feel those things.
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(You're close to me, I push away.
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The circles and squares are gonna collide.)
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And it's all I sing.
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And it's all icing.
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(Surround us...)
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Blood falls over me.
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Brings me back to a distance shot in the rubber parts.
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I can't stay there.
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See you inject yourself with it.
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-----------------
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Torch
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| Pinback |
