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I heard a hammer on the window and it reminds me of tomorrow Static on my neck, but I don't expect it to stay Nothing is wrong, just down and done searching for imaginary girls You're off selling away all the blue skies Throw your powers away You have to kill yourself to feel alive All the good saints lock up their daughters And the church bell ricochet shapes their ambition 17 and waiting, but I don't expect them to stay Nothing is wrong, just down and done searching for imaginary girls You're off selling away all the blue skies Throw your powers away You have to kill yourself to feel alive This is how we make our last sound This is how we make our last sound From Letras Mania