Låttexter: Taking Back Sunday. [unnamed].

:
The blasts rang out in the gallery room
My job is done here
Trapped in here with no chance of rescue
But is the truth really lost forever
And I gotta write it, hide it, in hopes you'll keep it safe
My job is done here
And I gotta write it, hide it, in hopes you'll decipher it
Well decipher it, decipher it

Best will come, passion, a plea or a lie
Shes the machine at the scene of the crime
I know my time is wasted and almost up
my my my time is wasted
(write it, hide it, in hopes you'll decipher it)
(decipher it, decipher me)

Take up the shape of the things that you'll hold
Misplaced, thrown away, was is lost, hid, or sold?

So go ahead and pick up the knife
I'd like to see what your made of
Go ahead and pick up the knife (ooooh)
I'dd like to see what you're made of (ooooh)
Go ahead and pick up the knife (decipher, decipher, decipher, decipher)
I'd like to see what you're made of (decipher, decipher, decipher)

I know my time is wasted

So profess your confession
Your three hour lie
She's the machine at the scene of the crime
You may take up the shape of those things that you hold
But if this is fiction its no contradiction, sir
But still a threat to you, I'm sure

So go ahead and pick up the knife
I'd like to see what your made of
Come let me in
we've been through all the answers
we've been through all the answers
(I'd like to see what you're made of)
Come let me in
we've been through all the answers
we've been through all the answers
(I'd like to see what you're made of)
Come let me in
Have we been through all the answers?
Have we been through all the answers?
Come let me in
Have we been through all the answers?
Have we been through all the answers?