Art By Numbers Black Water Rush
Be cast aside
For crimes that were pure
Only to find
You're empty handed
Once more and I
I'll be a believer
Of the truth in wine
You can't tell me anymore
These understatements will
Surround me with
With ivory and lore
I'm fixed
Ready to stand surrounded
Breath in these flames
We'll rise from the ground and…
Once more my crimes were pure
We all end up empty handed
Once more and I'll be a believer still empty handed
No more
Ridiculed for always asking why
No more
Ridiculed for always asking why
We appose every right
Can we ingest the night and hang it on our hopes
Why hang it on everything?
Why waste it on anything?
Why hang it on everything?
Just watch we're both becoming empty handed.
