Tekst:
Rosaline A Constant North

by your side ready to pull you up.. As grey as your eyes, a constant north to the starboard side. I know we'll reach it. Of this, I'm sure A restless

and still it rains a haze of sliced light. Tough Midwestern skin shields our weathered hearts for the time being. And false hope fuels us like a machine. Into a

head - I know it burns man - but everything falls apart This scene needs a change, and we're gonna give it to you. This scene needs a change. I need a

are my beliefs. Few and far are my beliefs. The ghost escaped but we saw his face. Party like it's 1893, A celebration like it's 1893, a certain feel

see patterns ... The city without struggle is a cultureless place. ....where no patterns exist. The rise and fall of value is written on your face. We see patterns ... We'll value the constant