My mind is a colour to get out my mouth

My tongue is a pill that I can't spit out.

Make no bones, about it

We're older now, than I like to admit.

My midnight image casts no shadow

An overturned city as our grass will grow.

Make no bones, about it

We're older now, than I like to admit.

Suppose it's the right time

Suppose it's the right time

Suppose it's the right time

Suppose it's the right time.

Suppose it's the right time

Suppose it's the right time

Suppose it's the right time

Suppose it's the right time.

Each steps on a snake fills my lungs ...

Allison, my slip of the tongue

No thoughts no turning back I

She knows me better than I

No blots no semen it's energy wasted.

Make no bones, about it

We're older now, than I like to admit.

Suppose it's the right time

Suppose it's the right time

Suppose it's the right time

Suppose it's the right time...