when the cold of the day moves over
and the warmth of the night moves in
there's a howling that sticks beneath my skin


so i try to stay warm and moving
but the silence is just too strong

like the bloom of a' rose is sharp and long

shells of silver

shells of silver
shells of silver


This feels strange, as the closer we get to the grave

everybody wants love, but it's not enough,

to have a good heart, but it's not enough.