On and on and on the sound
An air to drag you down before you’ve stayed too long
And when you realise what lies behind those crooked eyes
You’re bought and sold
Of all the wasted avenues, the bitterest of pills to choose
Down in a hole, deep enough to drown
When at first the trap was laid, you showed your wicked face
And held your gaze too long
With far too much for you to prove
You made the sickest move you ever could have known
You layes the man too much too soon for old perfume
And now it’s you…
And it’s a front row seat
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