You come in at night,
you're not ashamed he knows where you've been
The emergence of life
from a night on the town in the city of sin
You turn on the lights
and that gut feeling comes back again
Sick from the ashes in the ashtray
television static, how tragic the story of a veteran
In this mattress lies
the one who holds the key
to all the things that seem to all you, sensory deprivation
And just like a window left open,
a romantic tale of conquest, a rouge parchment
on the landscape of your bedroom
where you both spent the afternoon, sensory infatuation
The queen, the meek and their disease
Sleep away the weakness please
I'm too young
We're not afraid say the hands of time to our bodies
We play the spade against the king of hearts and his parade
A couple of actors stumble across the stage