Now its time to wrap our fears in the night
And on the first day we'll dress this city in flames
After all the things you say

You hate me for being this way

Still you won't let go of old ideals

There is no headline to read at night
When the record skips and you're not holding the needle


We all sing the songs of separation
And we watch our lives bleed out through our hands
Thats how it was on the first day

We saw Paris in Flames

I think it's going to rain, rain down


Here in this collapsed lung of a borough
There is no sunlight

The sunlight is manufactured in a windowless room
Distant and incoherent
Businessmen hang themselves


The lower cast side is a jukebox playing the deadman's crescendo


The needle is a vector
An intersection that well all must cross
A dimly lit hallway where shadows of moths decorate the walls


Discard this message
Burn this city down


Discard this message
Throw this bottle back in the ocean

Rip this page from the history books
Smash all the street signs
Erase all the maps

Forget my name
Forget my face
Because it's going to rain

And it never ends