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Thursday

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Thursday

Circuits Of Fever

Lyricist：Andrew Louis Everding, Iii, Robert Thomas Keeley, Timothy Payne, Steven Pedulla, Geoffrey Rickly, Thomas Rule

You are my blanked out pages
All the wasted spaces
The old weapons vanished
Spit blood at dawn, closed forever

You're an ivory icon
Held in glass captive
You're a falling column
Sharp little teeth kiss goodnight

He was upside down and drifting
In an endless ocean of night
The terror came in waves
Each one pushing him further from the shore

You are a fractured mirror
Silver paper in the wind
A desperate measure
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Sharp little circuits of fever

I can feel the unslept hours, see all the traces
I can hear the ticking of clocks
Old record running down, you can't replace it
You get distracted by the sound

He hears an ocean in the dial tone
Every night after the sleeping pill goes down
He wants to believe that he doesn't exist
He's everywhere and he's nowhere all at once

We'll fill the blanked out page, we'll burn the traces
We'll turn the unslept hours to days
Old record running down
We'll flip it over and sing the songs we've never heard
Now, now, now, now, now, now, yeah