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Poets Of The Fall - The Game

The Game
Poets Of The Fall
04:46
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Текст песни

She's plastic,
She's speed-read
A classic line between the lines.
Fantastic and half-dead
His tactic blind to warning signs.
Her clashes of colors
Are flashes of society.
In ashes
His dollars like posters of a tragic love story.

See the puppet master laugh
Astride a pale horse
And take another photograph
For selfie intercourse,
Reading out the epitaph
Of our pointless wars
For love we will tear us down.

He's shooting at shadows
Portraying a proper soldier boy.
She's thinking in logos
Still searching for the real McCoy.
Broadcasters, they've got this
Disasters a wasp of a satire,
Like actors who French kiss
Right after someone stole their fire.

See the puppet master laugh
Astride a pale horse
And take another photograph
For selfie intercourse,
Reading out the epitaph
Of our pointless wars
For love we will tear...

Us down that beaten path she treads
Mirage the blushing bride he weds.
Yesterday's diamonds and pearls
Now worthless trinkets in their world.
The salty tang of blood,
Sensations running hot
Snow blindness in pitch darkness,
Mindless rage
And then you...

See the puppet master laugh...
And take another photograph...

See the puppet master laugh
Astride a pale horse
And take another photograph
For selfie intercourse,
Reading out the epitaph
Of our pointless wars
When love,
Love could be our crown.

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