They told me that, told me that we're walking on a river bed,
And I'm stuck inside the same sad
dreams where everything is on its head.
They told me that, told me that I'll never be the same again.
The same again.
Take my weight (hold me in your reverence).
Make my heart race, (
I could be your everend).
I could be your everend.
So take my weight (hold me in your reverence).
Make my heart race, (
I could be your everend).
I could be your everend.
It's habitual, continual, until the 12th of never.
Just one small phrase to fill the space like "you're granted
absolution." It's a fantasy,
a fallacy, now everything is on its head.
Following a written path, we're walking on a river bed.
I see the brook is running red.
Take my weight (hold me in your reverence).
Make my heart race, (
I could be your everend).
I could be your everend.
So take my weight (hold me in your reverence).
Make my heart race, (
I could be your everend).
I could be your everend.
Seasons growing old, reasons stay the same.
Break the sullen mould, start to see a change.
Seasons growing old, reasons stay the same.
Break the sullen mould, start to see a change.
Take my weight (hold me in your reverence). (
Told me that,
you told me that we're walking on
the river bed) Make my heart race, (
I could be your everend). (
Told me that,
you told me that I'll never be the
same again) I could be your everend.
Seasons growing old, reasons stay the same.
Break the sullen mould, start to see a change.
Seasons growing old, reasons stay the same.
Break the sullen mould, start to see a change.
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