Farse. Means To An End. 5 In A Room. Zeneszám

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ho.
Ha ha ha ha.

(Pick it up!) Try to stop but I keep pinning up all my hopes
That you?d stop thinking about yourself;
Your arched pose, looking so sublime,
The only image I have left.
You wander in and out,
While I scream and shout.
Moisture on our lips,
I held you so tight, the balance tipped,
The walls caved in and then all around desolate,
Triggered a new despair.
The rainbow?s colour underlined,
?Exit to the left.?
They wander in and out,
I scream and shout.
Low on health, though,
But who said we?re not afraid?

That?s all I?ll ever be,
There?s one thing the books could not teach.
So take my hand and we?ll lead them all
To the pastures that used to be green.
One last kiss from me,
A futile attempt to save.
So grab my wrists and the flood cuts in
To the pasture that used to be green.

(Pick it up!) Try to stop but I keep pinning up all my hopes
That you?d stop thinking about yourself;
Your arched pose, looking so sublime,
The only image I have left.
You wander in and out,
While I scream and shout.
Moisture on our lips,
I held you so tight, the balance tipped,
The walls caved in and then all around desolate,
Triggered a new despair.
The rainbow?s colour underlined,
?Exit to the left.?
They wander in and out,
On deaf ears we shout.
Low on health, though,
But who said we?re not afraid?

That?s all I?ll ever be,
There?s one thing the books could not teach.
So take my hand and we?ll lead them all
To the pastures that used to be green.
One last kiss from me,
A futile attempt to save.
So grab my wrists and the flood cuts in
To the pasture that used to be green, dull green!

Well it twisted like vines and I, I tried to free myself,
These blistered hands, tattered, closed, mopped as I wept.
You?re like a vine, I, I tried to free myself,
These blistered hands, tattered, closed, mopped as I wept.
Hooked into a line you?re pulling, two?s not so perfect now,
I?m too proud to give up, proud to back down.
Hooked into a line you?re pulling, two?s not so perfect now,
I?m too proud to give up, she?s to proud to back down.

What if I don?t get back? What I?ve lost I?ll find a way,
That innocent streak unearthed beneath a blanket of disarray.
I?ve got to dig deep, and hold my head aloft,
All this while hanging from the chopping block.

What if I don?t get back? What I?ve lost I?ll find a way,
That innocent streak unearthed beneath a blanket of disarray.
I?ve got to dig deep, holding my head so aloft,
All this while hanging from the chopping block