Affection is the mortal illness of lonely people
Everyone thinks they know
You still don't know me
Lost and found, dream machine
Loved and broken, riddled with insanity
The loved and the broken
Subject to strategy
Affection is the mortal illness of lonely people
Everyone thinks they know
You still don't know me
Lost and found, dream machine
Loved and broken, riddled with insanity
The loved, the broken
Subject to strategy
Minutes to go
The flesh you've carried starts to fall in love
With the certainty of its own demolition
The flesh you've carried starts to fall in love
With the certainty of its own demolition
The flesh you've carried starts to fall in love
With the certainty of its own demolition