A silver medal
Hand to hand
Surely you'll find away to loose the grip and stop the sign
Now play the cards at hand to deal the day of your pretend
Stop and smell the tune of radios lost
Now play the cards at hand to deal the day of your pretend
Stop and smell the tune of radios lost
Something has called out and punctured my last vein
And when the past fails the winter falls and you'll remain
Run the race well, one jest I just did.
Touché is what I'm looking for
To find all the things I have ignored
Biting the end of bic, under your lamp shade
Slowly these follicles are swept down in your pre-game
Cleary to hide the face, the time restraint to save the fate
Now that you're breaking you're shaking
You fade away
Run the race well, one jest I just did
Touché is what I'm looking for
To find all the things I have ignored
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