Now it's time to wrap our fears in the night
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And on the first day I'll dress this city in flames
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After the things you say
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You hate me for being this way
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Still you won't let go of old ideals
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There is no headline to read at night
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When the record skips, and you're not holding the needle
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CHORUS 1:
|
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We all sing the songs of separation
|
And we watch our lives bleed out through our hands
|
That's how it was on the first day
|
When we saw Paris in flames
|
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CHORUS 2:
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Rain, rain down
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Think it's gonna rain, rain down
|
Think it's gonna rain, rain down
|
Think it's gonna rain
|
Think it's gonna rain, rain down
|
Think it's gonna rain, rain down
|
Think it's gonna rain
|
|
Here in this collapsed lung of a borough
|
There is no sunlight
|
The sunlight is manufactured in a windowless room
|
Distant and incoherent
|
Businessmen hang themselves
|
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(CHORUS 1)
|
|
The lower east side is a jukebox
|
Playing the dead man's crescendo
|
The needle is a vector
|
An intersection that we all must cross
|
|
A dimly lit hallway where shadows of moths decorate the walls
|
Discard this message
|
Discard this message
|
Discard this message
|
|
Burn your city down
|
Down
|
Burn your heart
|
Now burn it with this song
|
You were on the first day
|
|
Discard this message
|
Throw this bottle back into the ocean
|
Rip this page from the history book
|
Smash all the street signs
|
Erase all the maps
|
Forget my name
|
Forget my face
|
Forget my name
|
Because it's gonna rain
|
It's gonna rain
|
And it never ends
|
|
We all sing songs of separation (CHORUS 2)
|
Watch our hearts bleed through our hands
|
That's how it was on the first day
|
We saw Paris in flames
|
|
-----------------
|
Paris In Fla
|
| Thursday |
