Текст песни Exposure

Listen Up!

It doesn't make much sense

To go around fearing the world you created

It's a simple niche

Limp body, left to fill it.

And all this talk of perfection

Is defining your actions

It takes a toll on you

Never cloud the images of ones

You're trying to remember

It's all a matter of opinion

So much can change when comfort kicks in

Stop searching souls for soulless companions

The misdirected audience

Gets stranded in the fire

If it ever comes, times are changing

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So, take it for what it's worth

And be Grateful for it

Will never come

As expected

Let's set the stage

And kill the lights

The sand sifts through your fingers

It's chipping at the bone

Chipping at the bone

A life slowly remembered

That fabricates the soul

Fabricates the soul

Fabricates the soul

It's a simple niche

With, Limp body, left

To fill it.