Žodžiai dainai: Ten After Two. Dead After Dallas.

:
It's not for the fame
Not so much a catch and you fall apart
It's such a sad excuse
I'll hang Hang Hang
Until it's done
Don't ever tell me we're the fucking same
I've got bigger plans than this
And it's not for the fame
Not so much a catch when you fall apart
It's such a sad excuse
It's all the same
A sad excuse

I've got a layer of hell sitting under my skin
All these strings have become knots
Let's cut them all
With only regrets I can hardly see straight
So wash me white as snow
With no persuasion and only contradiction
These lies are all I know

I need an answer
I need the truth
I need an outing
(Why have we pushed so hard)
All these strings have become knots
And I'm bound to fall if I'm left on my own
I have had it up to the brink
So hang hang hang until it's done