Tekster:
Scapegoat Let Our Violins Be Heard

I love you, in a promise, Open and always in every situation no rhyme or reason, The reason she?s leaving need not be given, For she?s given more than

you from the fear the fall Come down to me and disregard your wings For when the angel falls in love my heart sings And I know we will find our way Guide

t that say something? Do I hear a miracle, chiming in our ears? Please discuss the commune And the loving from a woman Does that not have merit? Can that not be

me would mean remembering you I?m tragically left concave From a love that could be a best seller From a love that could be one of the best From a love that could be

uphold and behold, those whom have belayed these molds The molds in which we're forced to fit The molds our people have been slaved with The molds our children will be

it feels for her to hook your collar Its high school, She?s curious, You?re grounded I let you live her lie this gift which I have given you Would be