The more money they get
the colder their hearts.
To love has become a phrase.
Warmth doesn't exist.
Warmth doesn't exist.
Instead of holding him tight
they would rather watch him fall.
But he knows and sometimes he weeps quietly his heart breaks and breaks.
His fire seems to be extinct.
That is how they want him to be (but what have you achieved).
One day he drove his car into the crash barrier
and he had luck it was winter.
And the cold didn't make him realise that his legs were severed.
The snow absorbed his blood.
The snow absorbed his blood.
The martyrdom has been accomplished
Warmth doesn't exist.
Warmth doesn't exist.
Warmth doesn't exist.
Warmth doesn't exist.
The more money they get
the colder their hearts.
Warmth doesn't exist.
Warmth doesn't exist.
Warmth doesn't exist.
Warmth doesn't exist.
Artist: Gareth Gates
Artist: Night Riots
Artist: Entombed