Editors

Here's where the wind leaves its mark across your face
And the ocean knows more than we'll ever know
Wake from our sleep, we are crippled but unique
A cat in a bag meets the undertoe
Make to the fields that are neighbouring your town
Take all that you can carry
Play with the fire and let the money burn
It only bought a laugh, caught sincerity
Who's gonna make us better
If we won't believe there are things left to say
And who's gonna take away the slaughter
And put us to bed at the end of the day
Here's where the wind leaves its mark across your face
A perfect place to fall on your sword
Kepp your hands to yourself