Oh, they say.
They say that you still have a soul
So long as you can feel yourself losing it.
So long as you can feel it wasting away behind your eyes.
Little slivers of it plunging out of your ears to certain doom.
We've got fog in our eyes now, and we're begging to see.
We're on our knees again.
We're on our knees again.
We do what we have to, and we always resort to the silver.
It's as close to a kiss as you'll ever get.
You'll be on your knees again.
