So quick to claim we’re outdated

The bell is tolling that our time is up

We’re buried deep but still, we made it

Straight to our graves before the final lap

Now we’re like pets in cemeteries

We’re counting moons till we’re alive again

We rarely talk of former glories

We just repeat what’s written on our graves

Still, it read that we never paid

Attention to all these things

Setting the trends that they understand

At some point you must decide

It’s wind in your sails or you go with the tide

Our haunting voices kinda blurry

Our crooked faces look familiar

We’re here reclaiming something scary

We sing our song and then we laugh it off

At least we know that we never paid

Attention to all these things

Setting the trends that they understand

At some point you must decide

It’s wind in your sails or you go with the tide