Texty:
New Amsterdams The Killed Or Cured

Drinking in the afternoon This is what it's driven to Is there anything else to do I could've sworn it's three AM It's quiet in the room again This is

I'm a saint, i'm a bonified seraphim an angel on a bar stool, anyone seen my wings? i'm always losing the damn things i'm the glue i'm a permanent fixture

there are all these walls around it How could you take this place from me I left all my lessons in it Baby needs a new paradise The sweetest of the songs

Weak for lack of oxygen Strangled by the thought Promise you'll remember when I'm gone Sleep is mostly optional Trace lines around my heart Steal the

The world's caving in, I got tickets for two They're not the best seats and they're not the best view Take my hand, you can squeeze on my arm Wake from