I catch, my breath,
leave the night out sleeping.
Holding on, fly high,
something sweet to believe in.
Tampered minds, reckless and fried.
For the love, we would die for,
and bleed, to wash of our sins.
What's the point where do we wanna go,
what's the point what do we ought to know?
There are only blood-drenched tricks.
There ain't no useful thrills.
There are only blood-drenched tricks.
There ain't no useful thrills.
Try to recall, how we smiled,
while I'm chained to our present.
It's just a storm, we'll fight,
keep repeating that line.
While the fools, keep rushing in.
Can we hold our downfall,
a bit further away?
What's the point where do we wanna go,
what's the point what do we ought to know?
There are only blood-drenched tricks.
There ain't no useful thrills.
There are only blood-drenched tricks.
There ain't no useful thrills.
Well, you're drunk and we're stuck in black hurricane rot,
it was perfectly timed, we'd always get caught.
We keep getting better like progress would matter,
look at us now, we're bright and proud.
If there's hope there is love and that's where it ends.

INVIA LE CORREZIONI