Running without aim
Through the razor weeds
That only reach my knees
And when I'm lying in the grey sleep
I don't know how to walk the baords
I open my eyes, and look at the floor
And now I don't see you anymore
There is no choice, we make the point
To counteract a threatening hand
Close my hold
As we near the atmosphere
Writer(s): David Jay, Daniel Gaston Ash, Peter John Murphy, Kevin Haskins
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