Video Transcription
When the days are cold and the cards are folding
The saints we see are all made of gold
When your dreams are filled and the ones we hail
Are the worst of all and the blood's run still
I wanna have the truth, I wanna shelter you
When the days are cold and the cards are folding
The saints we see are all made of gold
When your dreams are filled and the ones we hail
Are the worst of all and the blood's run still
I wanna have the truth, I wanna shelter you