Frost creeps in our minds shining out a beacon

of cold light drawing doubt that chokes out the hope

with a careless disregard for the quiet

and the warmth

Exhausted is what we are dreams stolen away

bound down by pretty lies abused and mindless

drowning behind our very

own walls

So who’s sick of that gold whore say I

say I

The truth is we’re stripped to the core

left to die

to die

So who’s sick of that gold whore say I

say I

Born here in this cold the devil pulls the strings

the hole of a promise taken is the face in the disguise

so wake up

see who you are

created by

So who’s sick of that gold whore say I

say I

The truth is we’re stripped to the core

left to die

to die

So who’s sick of that gold whore say I

say I