The Marching Sane

the autumn in your eyes

the salty dark within your veins

we walk the streets at night

a searing spark inside our cageyour light it burns so painful

turn around and burn me painfulno light can release my pain

not a young god

I spit in the eyes of the marching sane

and in the young ones

and the world will turn in veinthe autumn in your smile

don't dare to walk another way

and when there's no behind... don't look back!

we praise the dawning dayyour light it burns so painful

turn around and burn me painfulno light can release my pain...no light can release my pain

not a young god

a tiptoeing knife in the back they reign

all the young onesno light can release my pain...