And your hands swell with the broken glass on a high rage. Smoke and mirrors, and a last stand. Take a low road. Take what you did best. Cause the night sweats are a familiar scent. You're scared of your sun-burnt skin. I'll be careful with your porcelain. You felt an angel, only second hand. Some kind of victim with a naive plan. The slow unearthing of a lover’s grave. If only we can bury all the years of blame. You're scared of your sun-burnt skin. I'll be careful with your porcelain. Like I'm using, feel you move right through my veins. And you’re choosing your contentment over pain. And you're free now. Yeah I'm free now.