(Holmes/Mackintosh)
I speak of people whose game is disguise
The myth of flavour appears with no sign
ŒCause I see it coming, like a long lost friend
A temple of rubble, the low and blind betray
Inane, the pleasures that leave a sorry state
You¹re told of treasures, indulgence cannot wait
But wait for tomorrow and steal some sanity
Insane thoughts are borrowed, unable to repay them
back
As I now fall... fall into deprivation
Fall... fallen there¹s till tomorrow
Love hides the things you¹ll never know
A lack of reason that makes a mortal man
Untold the reason, the past where it began
ŒCause I see horror, horror to think about
Insane thoughts are borrowed, unable to reapy them
back
As I see the blood, blood on the hands of reason
Blood, bloody the hands that lead me
Love for the ones you cannot know |