Album: On the Impossible Past
One, two, three, four
Well the silence hasn't been broken
As we reach the point of utter disgust
As the weeks drag on, the lies unfold
The alcohol loses its touch
And I once held your words close to my heart
With a knife protecting all of them
But now we've made our beds in a deep, dense forest
We're sound
We'll never take the blame
As I dig my hands in the cold, dark dirt
In a search for roots now lost forever
With one last great hope of a messiah
I check the time and admit to the surrender terms
Remember the days when I had a conscience?
Yeah, me neither
And I'm warning you
And I'm warning you
That I can't seem to tell
If it's my head or the earth that's spinning around
I can't seem to tell anymore
I can't seem to tell
If it's my head or the earth that's spinning around
I can't seem to tell
I can't seem to tell
If it's my head or the earth that's spinning around