People are puppets, held together with string.
There's a beautiful sadness that runs through him,
as he asked me to pray to the god he doesn't believe in.
impatient they start, fearful at end.
But here was a man mourning tomorrow.
He drank, but finally drowned in his sorrow.
He could not break surface tension.
He looked in the wrong place for redemption.
Don't look at me with those eyes;
turn back the time that drew him.
But he couldn't be saved: a sadness runs through him, through him.
impatient they start, fearful at end.
But here was a man mourning tomorrow.
He drank, but finally drowned in his sorrow.
He could not break surface tension.
He looked in the wrong place for redemption.
Don't look at me with those eyes;
turn back the time that drew him.
But he couldn't be saved: a sadness runs through him, through him.
Don't look Don't look Don't Don't
Don't look at me with those eyes;
turn back the time that drew him.
sadness runs through him,
sadness runs through him
sadness runs through him
sadness runs through him
sadness runs through him