Texty: This Is Hell. Sundowning. Nobody Leaves Without Singing The Blues.

We're writing confessions behind locked doors that's all we're good for.
Through this what have we learned? It doesn't matter if you play with fire, either way you get burned
This game was fixed from the start, we don't have a chance.
We're just knocking on deaths door, waiting for an answer.
If you're still wondering what the future holds, it's our names in the brightest lights with burned out bulbs.
Through this, what have we learned? It doesn't matter if you play with fire either way you get burned.