Stream
I guess my brick wall is more peaceful than yours
The meaning of what you feel
A small stream of water, a small stream of blood and money
A small stream of water, a small stream of blood and money
And me, shamelessly stealing those words

Oooooh I want it, all of it oh
Oooooh I want it, all of it oh
Oooooh even when there’s nothing left
Oooooh

The wind outside is opening doors
Letting in the air as cold complaint
We watch the death and the dryness of the last flame
We watch the death and the dryness of the last flame
Slow death can be more quiet, just a little more

Oooooh I want it, all of it oh
Oooooh I want it, all of it oh
Oooooh even when there’s nothing left
Oooooh