The colour's fading, the matches burned.
No accusations, no go-betweens. This noon we talk about you.
The dust is covered, these empty hands won't love you much,
Yeah they won't be blessed.
In the days, they say, you were wild but now time just seems to fade away.
This guy, I know he's got you smothered for many years to come. It's the sum of all events.
Now just give up.