Comeda

Just like a paper tiger torn apart by idle hands, through the helter skelter morning. Fix yourself while you still can.  No more ashes to ashes. No more cinders from the sky. All the laws of creation, tell a dead man how to die.

Looking through a broken diamond to make the past what it should be. Through the ruins and the weather, capsized boats in the sea

We're just holding on to nothing to see how long nothing lasts

There's one road to the morning. There's one road to the truth. There's one road back to civilization, but there's no road back to you