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Kiss

de Editors

Here's where the wind leaves its mark across your face
And the ocean knows more than we'll ever know
Wake from our sleep, we are crippled but unique
A cat in a bag meets the undertow

Make to the fields that are neighbouring your town
Take all that you can carry
Play with the fire and let the money burn
It only bought a lack of sincerity

Who's gonna make us better
If we won't believe there are things left to say?
And who's gonna take away the slaughter
And put us to bed at the end of the day?

Here's where the wind leaves its mark across your face
A perfect place to fall on your sword
Keep your hands to yourself
Overestimate your wealth
Don't touch what you can't afford

Who's gonna make us better
If we won't believe there are things left to say?
We watch as the dust settles around us
Now put us to bed at the end of the day

And everyone says
"One for the money!
Two for the money!
Three for the money!
Four for the money!
Five for the money!
Six for the money!
Seven for the money!
Eight for the money!

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