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