All these high tech guns and laughing skulls - they say we've earned our place here,
But they don't what they're jabbering about.
Now they try to fit the pieces back, although they can't connect here;
All wrong, all along - all along the pattern's been off.
Walking haunted city streets and calling out to nameless shapes that pass through
Unlit alleys, dark apartments with no one in sight.
Psychopathic animals with human masks and deadened souls have got us trapped in here.
If you want - we could walk right out of this place.
If you want - we could never leave this place again.