Console me in my darkest hour
Convince me that the truth is always grey
Caress me in your velvet chair
Conceal me from the ghosts you cast away
I'm in no hurry
You go run and tell your friends I'm losing touch.
Fill their heads with rumors of impending doom
It must be true...
Convince me that the truth is always grey
Caress me in your velvet chair
Conceal me from the ghosts you cast away
I'm in no hurry
You go run and tell your friends I'm losing touch.
Fill their heads with rumors of impending doom
It must be true...