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the jukebox, plays its third crecendo. to balance it all out. to let the wolves come into our houses to feed all of the children. a story for their hearts, to worhip them with stone. This difference between ourselvess it's buried in the past Rhetoric frozen cracks the wound Rewritten and forgotten "Now that I, tying thy glass mask so tightly" I have seen it all. Songtexte This difference between ourselvess it's buried in the past This innocence which we will sell it's expanding our own height. Running for cover, walls cave in deeper. Surrounds all the sound from the ears. your reason is not one for complaining. Aus Songtexte Mania