Letras
Lathe of the stars, where they dine
On the bones of men they admired, co-conspired
For all that they have planned, obsolescence, greatest lessons
You can't afford to miss
Don't go quietly in the night sea
You're too good for this
And we're sold for our salt
Get your hands from my throat
Sign off the rights to your biggest fight
That you can't commit to the long view as it drains through
Lacquers wearing thin, convalescence needed presence
You can achieve it yet
Don't go quietly, 'cause you might be
The catalyst reset
And we're sold for our salt
Get your hands from my throat
And we're made from pre-owned
Rip the wires, crash the core