Lyrics
Some people chip away time
More than they understand an open hand
I'm waiting for way before first light
And it's the edge worn clean again
Sunk in the middle
Our crimes are just a rhythm on the west and you
Argue on my life
Some evil innocence, wild century can't express
A gesture left in summer's mind
Autumn's come to find
And it's the end of the dreams again
Sunk in the middle
Our crimes are just a rhythm on the west and you
Argue on my life
