There is nothing left in the house of theft,
just a table to dance on.
There's a growing anger, bigger and bigger,
but what have we done?
I'm still not sleeping, I tried counting sheep,
but they don't want to leap the fence that I've made for them.
Not really making sense.
But what have we done?
When good goes bad, and bad to worse,
when regrets come first,
close the window, turn off the light,
and it will be alright.
I'm still not sleeping, I tried counting sheep,
but they don't want to leap the fence that I've made for them.
Not really making sense.
But what have we done?