Album: Flashlights
This isn't what we had expected:
No trumpets, no cymbals, just the deadest silence
And in our sleep there were no lights on
Pitch black, unromantic, is this all we lived for?
They needed words that weren't invented
To condense our lifetimes to a graveside headstone
And in our sleep we started laughing,
That they expected much more
What more could we wish for?