CLEAN HANDS
In my..
in my veins
There are traces
of silver and gold
Somewhere deep below the curvy scars
right on the surface of my skinny bones
..ever since it became too hard to distinguish
the right from wrong..
I keep seeing those lights
coming down
Sometimes I believe
sometimes I believe
Sometimes...
I believe
(that) I can move
move through walls
Reciting prayers to unseen
vagrant figures Thank you for the music
thank you for nothing
I'm giving it all away
'cause I'm nothing
but (un)pure? Thank you for the offerings
thank you for nothing
You've scattered my ashes
long before my time
Am I mentally able?
To finish off what I began
I'm afraid I just don't care anymore
...ever since it (all) became too hard...
In my...
in my veins
There are traces
of silver and gold
Those wanderers in the night
unseen, unloved
unseen, unloved
They speak of
the great "untruth"
unseen, unloved
unseen, unloved