Baroque - Loot lyrics

Pried from cold dead hands Is a conscience made of steel Although very best friends Too cold to say how we feel I fear you never knew When you betrayed my trust So true, I must have missed it too When the iron started to rust But you were always by my side You were always on my side It's fine that I learned to stand You knew that I'd walk some too To finally let go of the hand Was the hardest thing to do 'Cause you were always by my side Just to be torn apart By foolish pride There's no religion In us now Total communication Has broken down There's no way out No bridge to cross No path around Don't look for help Among this crown You know you're dead If you hit the ground And your broken bones Won't walk so tall Won't stand so proud You were always by my side And in a bind Like every time When the whole world Went running scared I'm on the bottom Barely visible But something was Always there When you were Always on my side Just to be torn apart By foolish pride There's no religion In us now Total communication Has broken down There's no way out No bridge to cross No path around Don't look for help Among this crown You know you're dead If you hit the ground And your broken bones Won't walk so tall Won't stand so proud You were always on my side And my whole world Has changed so much I thank you for the time My words have changed so much Now that I'm Now I know everything I never wanted to Know about it My sun is setting on A world that doesn't Give a sh** The very young And the very old They know the truth To make a bed then To die alone Is the proof Paralysis is possibly A new beginning Exodus, the big game Final inning All I am is a memory In dark corners A fear I have A heart stopping Mind disorder Last thought of family A love I knew Best friends left behind And what they'll do I leave this world Nothing but a rhythm section One moment, one time One love, one direction And my whole world Has changed so much I thank you for the time My words have changed so much Now that I'm Pried from cold dead hands Is a conscience made of steal