Lyrics: Upper Class Trash. Favoring Blurred Lines. Sunset Of Bullets.

We stand in line like ducks in rows, we're crushing one anothers toes, And if you asked me I'd say that this situation doesn't,
Matter to us. We were the first to kill the fuss,
If silent screaming were so easy then we'd all be guilty.

And you said to me, that this tragedy has gotten out of hand.
And I said that we've, been a witness to this tragedy again.
(you waited for this, and now it's to late)

Chasing after you they ran into sunset of bullets,
Let the shots shine more, from the sun to their doors.

Are painted whited and locked up tight, they never leave their homes at night. Window shades still stay dusty closed up waiting for December. It came and went, you lost the chance and now your spent. When did bleeding become so trendy that it's all we hear now?

(Their Doors)
I'll see you all at your front door.