CLEAN HANDS In my.. in my veins There are traces of silver and gold Somewhere deep below the curvy scars right on the surface of my skinny bones
..ever since it became too hard to distinguish the right from wrong.. I keep seeing those lights coming down Sometimes I believe sometimes I believe Sometimes... I believe (that) I can move move through walls Reciting prayers to unseen vagrant figures Thank you for the music thank you for nothing I'm giving it all away 'cause I'm nothing but (un)pure? Thank you for the offerings thank you for nothing You've scattered my ashes long before my time
Am I mentally able? To finish off what I began I'm afraid I just don't care anymore ...ever since it (all) became too hard...
In my... in my veins There are traces of silver and gold
Those wanderers in the night unseen, unloved unseen, unloved They speak of the great "untruth" unseen, unloved unseen, unloved