she's slipping again, just like they always do
she looks towards the sun, so beautiful and intoxicated now you're alone, looking for Christ in the cigarette smoke...
you look towards the sun...
you know that we're all moving on...
cleansed by the fire, hurt by the alcohol covered in paint, my camera can't wait to capture it all and her heart stopped to fight on Walpurgis night
a beautiful sight, Walpurgis night...
a fire by the lake, will either make you fall asleep or stay awake now you look towards the sun as if there'll never be more rain and I'm in the crowd, looking for her designer clothes...
cleansed by the fire...

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