Tekster: Good Life (The). Other. Waiting On Wild Horses.

When the horses come to drag me away
I won't fuss and fight
I won't plead or beg
And wherever they dump me I'll lay my head
I'll sleep it off
I'll sleep alone until the longing burrows a hole
Straight through my sternum to make it's home
I have this way of carrying on such fruitless passions
Fallen from the vine
And the sweetest nectar turns to bitter wine
But still we drink, we drip the bottle dry
We smash it apart and lick the sides
Recycled lovers expiring the night
So when the horses come
I won't scream or cry
I've been dying for them to take my life
And I'll sing a new birth
A past unscratched
So don't be sad
We should both rejoice to the sound of those hooves
Down that dark highway, in opposite directions
Wherever they dump us we'll stay
Recycled lovers get so carried away