I feel my innocence Die at your fingertips And hold you all night like regret You won't leave my past You'll never leave my head But darling, you would leave me for dead In the evening we returned to leave And even out the reasons we were being Greedy heathens filthy eating meat and greasy Secrets seeping out of something Hands cast in shadows breathing Fists drawn in darkness creeping Light stained in blood discreetly Heads up seven sigils burn bright for seasons Untold, no memories unfold In the space we hold between tangled strongholds Placed on the right lines Placed at the right time-one mind Wards drawn in grey and white alright Put a little rhyme make the night grow sixfold Press hold press play press anything Yo leave the past in between our fingertips