We're on a bad station, in a slow moving car
Trying to get back home, with a suitcase full of broken bones
We're on a trip back down
The road it melts behind us, vultures overhead
The firmament opens up , and hands reach down to cut the strings
We're all going down
There's blood in the ocean, Wolves are closing in
The dream it got took out, inside of a crowded airplane
Come down out of sky again
The lonely beat, the slow descent
Come down out of reach again
Signed your only friend
You said that you killed it
But now it never seems to go away
Except when it's needed
We hear the same nine words you always say
"It takes too much control to let it in"
But what a naive fool that makes it end