Two riddled hands
The tumult of Friday night
They're all partying but us like they don't hear the sound of the dismantling of cities, our jiseis
Since all we have left is love, I will love you dearly
Since all we had was lost, I will help you find me
Two hands lost in the dark trying to feel a thing

Something, anything worth the wait

I wish I could be more, a Rodin on concrete
Standing through the debris, full of promises to keep
I wish I could pretend there's some kind of a sanctuary
Standing through the debris you're the only chapel I need
Bodiеs of iron and dust, they stumble
Like drunkards at dawn it's on our housеs they fall
We're standing through the debris
Trying to feel a thing
Something