I'm addicted to your aging face, little deaths and little lives replaced

Seize the back me ups and climb the stairs, fraction of the man who didn't care...

Idols are the parks designed for weak

You and me and me and you and me

All the former fathers re-appear, try to find a space close to hear

Place the bruises up inside the clocks, this is hard and then this is not...

Leave me standing with my lady's death, housing up the holes like we're a breath

Guess the night pretends to be asleep

You and me and me and you and me