Texty: Dirt. Other. After The Dance.

Come out to play, there's so many mistakes to be made. Blood trail leads to their door, as mirrors cast no reflection on the mucous stained floor. Lives to shatter, hearts to bleed, as dreamers walk blindly. Unto man, woman is born but woman cannot conceive. And after the dance the heat begins to fall the blind man can see, as another takes the call and after the dance all gone but the flesh nowhere left to hide, in the nonsense they have left. As the sky opened up and the rain fell towards this planet we call earth, the prophet cannot tell lies for he has seen and we shall see but they'll forget before we die