Pack the morning up it's gone away, everybody here is wide awake
I'm addicted to your aging face, little deaths and little lives replaced
Seize the back me ups and climb the stairs, fraction of the man who didn't care...
Idols are the parks designed for weak
You and me and me and you and me
All the former fathers re-appear, try to find a space close to hear
Place the bruises up inside the clocks, this is hard and then this is not...
Leave me standing with my lady's death, housing up the holes like we're a breath
Guess the night pretends to be asleep
You and me and me and you and me