In five years it'll burn inside you
Will you look back and say you did all that you tried to
They'll try hard each day to break you
Until the day comes when lip service will forsake you
And you've been tested
Pulled out your hair now
With each passing day gone by
You look the worse for wear now
Your excuses all grow stale
Until you see the lady in the long black veil
And every violin in the world is playing your song
But they're playing it all wrong
You think long, try to get things sorted
With one foot in each grave you end up quartered
You feel a tug, a subtle persuasion
As that suit and tie look ever more engaging
Accept the strings, they will support you
As you wave goodbye to childish things they contort you
The Gc5 - Strings Attached Lyrics
The Gc5 - Strings Attached Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
In five years it'll burn inside you
Will you look back and say you did all that you tried to
They'll try hard each day to break you
Until the day comes when lip service will forsake you
And you've been tested
Pulled out your hair now
With each passing day gone by
You look the worse for wear now
Your excuses all grow stale
Until you see the lady in the long black veil
And every violin in the world is playing your song
But they're playing it all wrong
You think long, try to get things sorted
With one foot in each grave you end up quartered
You feel a tug, a subtle persuasion
As that suit and tie look ever more engaging
Accept the strings, they will support you
As you wave goodbye to childish things they contort you
Will you look back and say you did all that you tried to
They'll try hard each day to break you
Until the day comes when lip service will forsake you
And you've been tested
Pulled out your hair now
With each passing day gone by
You look the worse for wear now
Your excuses all grow stale
Until you see the lady in the long black veil
And every violin in the world is playing your song
But they're playing it all wrong
You think long, try to get things sorted
With one foot in each grave you end up quartered
You feel a tug, a subtle persuasion
As that suit and tie look ever more engaging
Accept the strings, they will support you
As you wave goodbye to childish things they contort you