Ain't it strange what a few cold days will do to your hands? They'll start checking your pulse until' some hot stuff rolls through your veins again. But with a little luck, you'll remember that you're tied to them, and that the lies they've slung were meant for an early death.
And it'll all be fine, just keep those demons outta sight…
And once the new name sticks, let the old one pass by.


Now the suns low, and we're in for quite a night. So keep those hands at home, maybe then they'll do you right. And quit telling yourself no songs have been sung for you, or the warmth ain't back, and this blood will never move.
Yea, it'll all be fine, just keep repeating that line, and once the new name sticks, just let the old man die…

Now all of the paint is peeling off my walls, exposing their faults.

And oh, the sky is still bleeding its soft white blood,
And I've lost all feeling. Little hearts
aren't made for grieving, so I've filled mine up
with a love that's meaningless.
But maybe this won't stop…
I've stood in this same place many times before
And it never looks quite the same.
I guess Time takes his time to smother you,
And to leave all those memories stained.

Oh and something's still calling my name from down the coast,
From that city of angels, and men
who break off their glistening wings and then hang them up
For us blind ones to feed on.
And here comes some old ghost. Please, don't hide your face! Though I ain't the one who you thought you'd become…
I see no need to name names, baby no one could've broken your fall.

Well you've sold us your history, young one, so move yourself along
from the lone hill that rides this town, until your story needs to be told
Once more,
Once more

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