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Dead Heat

de Left Hand Black

Surely you'll find away to loose the grip and stop the sign
Now play the cards at hand to deal the day of your pretend
Stop and smell the tune of radios lost

Something has called out and punctured my last vein
And when the past fails the winter falls and you'll remain
Run the race well, one jest I just did.

Touché is what I'm looking for
To find all the things I have ignored

Biting the end of bic, under your lamp shade
Slowly these follicles are swept down in your pre-game

Cleary to hide the face, the time restraint to save the fate
Now that you're breaking you're shaking
You fade away
Run the race well, one jest I just did

Touché is what I'm looking for
To find all the things I have ignored

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