Songtext:
The smokestacks breathe like spitting out the truth White lines disguised as fuel consumed Under grayblue skies we are simple machines, marks matched with greatness but tempting fate Lines, Faces, are all drawn in the sand Its better not to understand and turn your back on the city Wine, it tastes like it did yesterday and finally you've found a way of turning your back on everything Don't ever swing on three right things Finding safe escape routs and saying the right things The choice you make still affects me We cling to this tension just to feel nything, leaving flesh for the effort we've made Time to embrace time won't erase these guilty looks from your eyes There is no disguise good enough to hide lines that are drawn in the sand You've finally found a way Don't ever, However Written down in numbers and measured in waves add up to a sense of accomplishment
