Lost
Hit the streets
All tones of gray paint the thoughts of today
The deflection of Creation
Feeling old, sold, tell me what you're waiting for
Some of the bloodiest days
We were hanging together wherever
Our reckless days
Can't you feel it? Feels like desperate days
Blood... Thunder... try to free yourself
Rites of the ancients
believe in nothing beyond
Lone
Hit the streets
All tones of gray paint the thoughts of today
The deflection of Creation
Feeling old, sold, tell me what you're waiting for
Some of the bloodiest days
We were hanging together wherever
Our reckless days
Can't you feel it? Feels like desperate days
Hanging together wherever
Our reckless days
Blood... Thunder... try to free yourself
Rites of the ancients
Try to free yourself
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