Nine Eleven - Dance On Your Own Ruins Tomorrow | Текст песни

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• Nine Eleven
• Dance On Your Own Ruins Tomorrow

DANCE ON YOUR OWN RUINS TOMORROW

The short hand has stopped on NINE.
There’s no hurry now.
The night, here, has already swallowed everything.
It won't spit us out before we're dead - It will only spit us out once dead
Cracklings get out of the radio (set). A story of planes, towers ablaze, and riots.
The end of the world might be close … and so much the better.
In the back of the room, laying down on the bed, she's all I have left.
Now her heart beats at the speed of the air, filled with explosions and stories that never end well.

« Sweetheart are you shivering ?! You'd shiver even more if you knew where we are taken to... »

The wind set ablaze the appartment, and from its burning breath, flows out a shower of stars.
It's coming as fire, washing off all the liars, leaving, like a gift from heaven, a blanket of ashes on the ground.
Daylight continues its incursion in the trenches of our lives torn apart by the painful feeling of letting everything pass us by.
It now floods the room, shrouding and lulling warmly (nothing but) her empty clothes...

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