Where' you get that fifth grade repose
I hope you realize that the sleep has overcome
My fist is against your face but you don't get the punch-line
I wouldn't give in to your demands for all worst numbness
When the sleep has overcome
When the fire is gone
I won't be waiting for your door
I'll miss you with a sigh of relief
We're safely in sights of destroyers
Let our cities burn because in all honesty
I never needed them or there sky scraping heights
The floors are made of news clippings of catastrophes
Bern, Bern, Bern is all we learned
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