Sore Feet + Blisters
Come, step into the sunlight
The parade is marching
Up and down this ghost town
With sore feet and blisters
From too much talk of nothing
Step into the sunlight and say something
Anything will do
A great day/a long wait
Alarm clocks screaming out loud a warning
Streets like a chessboard
We're checkmate and that is all
Step into the sunlight and do something
About this suicide view
Come save me with your hands
I'm pretty, pretty tired
Of balancing on the edge of this knife