| I’m fine as a matter of course
|
| But I don’t get lonely anymore
|
| And I’ll touch is a matter of course
|
| But I don’t feel nothing anymore
|
| And I scream for our manner of symptoms
|
| But I don’t suffer anymore
|
| And my move is a matter of course
|
| But I can’t feel the movement
|
| If silence is gold it’s my part of the road
|
| When all of these methods you’ll have
|
| And coding your message in binary
|
| There’s only lines of ones and o’s
|
| I wait for a matter a time
|
| I don’t have to stay off anymore
|
| And I fight as a matter of plan
|
| 'Cause I don’t have patience anymore
|
| And I’ll say what needs to be said
|
| But I won’t save her anymore
|
| And our love is a matter of course
|
| 'Cause I don’t feel the anger anymore
|
| If silence is gold it’s my part of the road
|
| When all of these methods you’ll have
|
| And coding your message in binary
|
| There’s only lines of ones and o’s
|
| Your vengeance is called the victims are told
|
| When all of it’s all that you have
|
| Infecting your pillar lies aside of me
|
| In needles fetched with pheromones
|
| Rest yourself and ease my little girl
|
| These troubles will bind us
|
| And ours souls like rusted machines
|
| Rest yourself and ease my little girl
|
| These troubles will bind us
|
| And ours souls like rusted machines
|
| Rest yourself and ease my little girl
|
| These troubles will bind us
|
| And ours souls like rusted machines
|
| Rest yourself and ease my little girl
|
| These troubles will bind us
|
| These troubles will bind us |