Slaves To Gravity My Poor Hand
My little victories in vein
I'm just the jealous moon who stole the sun again
Don't try to understand
It's my poor hand you made
Lost in your trophy room
My nothing on parade
Eat your own kind
Beat the old man
Shake my poor hand
Holy as you fall
As evening heals the pain
I know the sun will light up my life again
My dirty mirror rides the waves
Caught up in ocean storms and shattered into spray
I've tried to pay my dues, to be like you always
Hung in your lonely sky
Your light I can't erase
Eat your own kind
Beat the old man
Shake my poor hand
Holy as you fall
As evening heals the pain
As close as we've become I want to be free now
Only when the cure tastes like novocain
I know the sun will light up my life again
Let the wings unfold
Goodbye my friend
You know this is the end
