Ripped Apart

(álbum: The Fury Of Our Maker's Hand - 2005)

Throw stones
Even though you live in a glass house on your own
And I don't sympathize or criticize
Rumour has it you've got something to say
You've got nothing on me
Nothing on me
Rumour has it you keep repeating yourself
You've got nothing on me
Nothing on me

Second mind
Second sight
Second skin
Go within
Ripped apart
Ripped apart on sight
Fork tongue
It's like a razor when you want to use it
And use it wrong
And I don't compromise or socialise

Rumour has it you've got something to say
You've got nothing on me
Nothing on time
Second mind
Second sight
Second skin
Go within
Ripped apart
Ripped apart on sight
Ripped apart, ripped apart, ripped apart

Goddamn, shit, I'm feeling it
When we see each other it's throw time
When we see each other it's throw time
When we see each other it's go time
You throw stones and I don't criticise
You throw stones and I don't sympathize...

You throw stones and I don't criticise
Throw stones...