I.A.N.

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Colder Suns

5:14

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What better place to start
Than at the very end
Dipped in the melting pot
With constellations close at hand
Constrained by miracles
The earth beneath my feet
Wrapped up in polythene
The exit always out of reach
The ledge, the ledge
But there's no pushing me
And I'm fed, I'm fed
I'm fed this cruel disease
What I do I see
We're told to toe the line but
You've got moving on your mind
So leave
When a minute of my time
Is a mountain on your mind
It leads
To death between the scenes
Why break a habit upon
Which you now depend
Cast off the also rans and
Take it to its natural end
The streets look ordinary
A place for pagan gods
I'll sell you sanctuary
Give you better odds
The ledge, the ledge
But there's no pushing me
And I'm fed, I'm fed
I'm fed this cruel disease
What I do I mean
We're told to toe the line but
You've got moving on your mind
So leave
When a minute of my time
Is a mountain on your mind
I see
A death between the scenes
So tell me what it is you want from me
Can I say, No
Whilst you play along we're all at sea
Welcome to desire
We call it by its name
Well I guess the things that make us tick
Will give us up
What do I mean
We're told to toe the line but
You've got moving on your mind
So leave
When a minute of my time
Is a mountain on your mind
I see
This death between the scenes
There's no pushing me
I'm fed this cruel disease
What do I mean
We're told to toe the line
There's no pushing me
We're told to toe the line
When I'm fed this cruel disease
It's a death between the scenes

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