There's something lovely about how we are destroyed
Like the bloodbath that our minds are
Like tin soldiers, we're deployed
Into a bloody battle
That we'll march until we fall
With one leg and a broken gun
That just won't work at all
So tell me, if our hearts can't work
And if love is just a lie
How can we tell we're living
Or who'll miss us when we die?
What's the point of idle chatter
If we're just damned anyway
Might as well just leave right now
If there's no one that's gonna wait
Tell me if I'm broken,
Tell me if I'm tired
Cos I just can't seem to work
With this burden on my shoulders
What kind of angels are we
If we're meant to go to hell?
Or then again, is there nothing
And we're both just cold tin soldiers?