At the end of this
Black-and-white films
Of which we're the leading parts
As the curtains
Begin to fold
I'm listening for the beating of your heart
Through the roaring of the crowd
And the battlefield stained red
All I hear is the cry
Of your forgotten lullaby
In my head
As far as I'm concerned,
The sun lifts and sets on you
Even if these walls between us
Make the light hard to get through
Maybe you didn't love me then,
But at least you stopped the fight
And swallow all that pride of yours
To get us through the daunting night
Now the massacre is over
And your hand has left my own
But take your time
'Cause I don't mind spending
The rest of my life alone
