Our Honeymoon At Weston Hills

The rise and the fall.

Dialect and different skill.

Gripping my hand

With every intention of breaking free.

The roar of the crowd haults to the simple

Echo of a beating heart.

As we all attempted to exhale

Our breathe just wouldnt leave our chest.

One thousand dainty figures all lined up and linked

Side to side by the arms.

Each and every limb at our sides

As if they were sleeping.

The quarrel of all communication

Being choked from our nerves.

In the end of the bottom line we all anticipate

The intense stabs of pins and needles.

The roar of the crowd haults to the simple

Echo of a beating heart.

As we all attempted to exhale

Our breathe just wouldnt leave our chest.

Shake them off,

Just to find a way to wake them up.

To make them see what they are losing,

Introduce what you have become.

Show them where you're going.

Struggle to fight the world

Of everything you've ever wanted.

Everything that you've ever wanted.

The rise and the fall.

Dialect and different skill.

Gripping my hand

With every intention of breaking free.

The roar of the crowd haults to the simple

Echo of a beating heart.

As we all attempted to exhale

Our breathe just wouldnt leave our chest