We're going to be mutilated

Each moods deprived

There will be no smile

There will be no tears

The air turns into violet

We're paralysed and rusty

Contempling the abandoned rails

Lookin' for myself

How many empty trunks

How many maps torn out

Hopin' to take the direction

The air turns into violet

We're paralysed and rusty

Contempling the abandoned rails

Converse, convert

Converse, convert

The air turns into violet

We're paralysed and rusty

Contempling the abandoned rails