the shadow Caught by the drift and pitch Of whatever it is That keeps me coming back I want out 'cause I'm getting sick Sick from all this swerving Driver, sick from
Translation: As Cities Burn. Thus From My Lips, By Yours, My Sin Is Purged.
the shadow Caught by the drift and pitch of whatever it is That keeps me coming back I want out 'cause I'm getting sick Sick from all this swerving Driver, sick from