Album: The Golden Ratio
You bless this air, but it chokes hard,
So bless my heart, and, bless my,
goodbyes,
This music box has lost its key, and plays only out of
tune,
It's taken all my words, prisoner of you
Untie your hands from the
barbwire,
Prey they find you, when the sunrise comes,
Before you draw a
gasp of air,
Do you think we'll make it out alive?
So I ask you to
remember, back to winter 95,
I could have saved your life, you could've
saved mine,
Now the wolves that hunt you, in your sleep,
You feel their
breath upon your neck, you might not be so lucky next time
Untie your hands
from the barbwire,
Prey they find you, when the sunrise comes,
Before you
draw a gasp of air,
They won't find you
I will fall short,
But we will
float again,
They'll never keep me here