Текст (слова) песни: Fairweather - The Treachery Of Images
the volume is up again. Closing the spaces left within this room. To watch instead, it`s light somehow will wash this out, this image, from playing out with programmed time. I`m moving in circles here, just watching this gun, these hands, these hours are losing count. Waiting, wishing, there was a way to stop this. I can`t help it now. This light somehow will wash it out, this image, from playing out and keeping time. Believing in all I fear, I`m breathing out, this repeating line. The last thing I`m seeing, is bleeding in through the sound. Just turn it up again. But I don`t know this... wash out the images. And hoping that it might that it just might, not come again you turn and watch the screen, get up do anything you can.
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