Holding Everything I Own In Your Filthy Hands

These skeletons are real.
Save the flesh and pity for me.
The fiends will walk the streets of Paris
Stealing life before it has a chance to be.
From the turnstyles to the heart-attacks
The subway to the skin of our knees
Where we fall and scrape to bone in the ending.
So save the flesh and the pity for me.

You can take a millions miles out of me and you'll find
The road I've traveled isnt much different from that of the ocean.
I can start to drown here or there, it doesnt really matter to me.
As long as when I wash up on the shore
You're right along the water, waiting to try and help me to breathe.

So push the skeletons out of their coffins
Just like you push the water out of my lungs,
Save the flesh and I wash the blood off of your white dress
And brush the dirt from your knees.


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