Take my finger prints and smile,
This is the only thing that I will leave,
In here, in here.
The world goes too fast,
I walk away too slow,
How could I contrast landscapes out of hope,
Landscapes out of hope.

I got to kill the Killer that's inside,
And I got to heal the healer that's inside,
It's a dead end road.

Some things never end,
And some things never die,
I'll take the wind for company,
'Cause you and me will never be one,
Pursued by the radiance of her eyes telling me,
That there is no need to cry, no there is no need to cry,
Watch me shivering at your door, begging for a space on my floor.

I got to heal the healer that's inside and,
I got to kill the Killer that's inside,
It's a dead end road, dead end road ...

Take the time to read the winkles on one's face,
As an open book of what has been his life,
I'll tell you what has been his life,
How can they decide for the blood that is mine,
I'm part of you as I am part of the stars,
You are the beat inside my heart,

I got to kill the Killer that's inside,

It's a dead end road,
Dead end road,
Dead end road,
Dead end road...

Deny the passenger, who want to get on
Deny the passenger, who want to get on
Deny the passenger, who want to get on
Want to get on
He want to get on
Want to get on
He want to get on

To make a chain of fools
You need a matching pair
One hypocritical fool
And a crowd that's never there
There's anger in the silence
There's wheels upon the jail
A black train built of bones
On a copper rail

Company conductor
You need the salt of tears
Falling on a ticket
That no one's used in years
Non-commercial native
It's tattooed in your veins
You're living in a blood bank
And riding on this train

The spirit's free, but you always find
Passengers stand and wait in line
Someone in front and someone else behind
But passengers always wait in line

Deny the passenger, who want to get on
Deny the passenger, who want to get on
Deny the passenger, who want to get on
Want to get on
He want to get on
Want to get on
He want to get on

To make a chain of fools
You need a matching pair
One hypocritical fool
And a crowd that's never there
There's anger in the silence
There's wheels upon the jail
A black train built of bones
On a copper rail

Company conductor
You need the salt of tears
Falling on a ticket
That no one's used in years
Non-commercial native
It's tattooed in your veins
You're living in a blood bank
And riding on this train

The spirit's free, but you always find
Passengers stand and wait in line
Someone in front and someone else behind
But passengers always wait in line