Throats - My Hands Are Cold lyrics

People miserable as f** because nothing's as it seems Say goodbye to coming clean of your dreams It's too hard to relate when I'm full of so much hate It doesn't matter if the clocks held up by splinters The hands still move round Round and round and round and round It doesn't matter if you're held up by splinters You're just mainly sight and sound Could you even feel falling down? Getting older, golden age I guess I can't see the best until I've seen the worst But there's something in my head They're f**ing with my head Walk any street they're all the same cause winters home too soon again A generation's vice, slip on ice Feel it coming down tonight Getting older, golden age Can you feel the lies inside? A place for everything and everything in its place It's the same thing every day because we've all run out of things to say They're f**ing with my head