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weak at the best of times there's not much else for us to be cross country smiles cutting through time zones like thieves in the distance holding ransom in the cold an incision loud and mathematical spin every letter's in disarray fall over words stretched out in the way looking for the truth mine is the one with the rust and the chest pain stole through the window like the wind through the back lane can't you here the sirens? we're standing right beside them tear up the sidewalk between ambivalence and fear ask the dead man," why do you always sleep out here?" "I'm not frozen, i'm only standing very still getting old I'm only standing very still mine is the one with the rust and the chest pain stole through the window like the wind through the back lane can't you here the sirens? we're standing right beside them From Letras Mania