Chops

How do we want it?

Desires always change

A yellow coffin

Doesn't that seem strange

I never knew that

You could see colors from the grave

I guess that's just the consequence of fame

I’m pulling you closer

I’m drawing you near

The dark walls surround us

I’m sensing your fear

These aren't our ghost stories

Only our proclamations of the game

Touch it or take it

I don’t need you to be laughing in vain

These aren't our ghost stories

Only our proclamations of the game

Touch it or take it

I don’t need you to be laughing in vain

How do we want it?

Desires always change

A senile prophet

Doesn’t that seem strange

I always knew that

Disbelieving all the hearsay

Would be the consequence of fame

I’m pulling you closer

I’m drawing you near

The dark walls surround us

I’m sensing your fear

These aren't our ghost stories

Only our proclamations of the game

Touch it or take it

I don’t need you to be laughing in vain

These aren't our ghost stories

Only our proclamations of the game

Touch it or take it

I don’t need you to be laughing in vain