Burn the Bridges - The Sick Bags

Saturdays are dark unlike they used to be

Cold winter showed it’s face a little early

And i sit and wait, for something to

Cherish a memory

Burn the bridges that you cross

Leave nothing behind

Burn the bridges that you cross

Leave nothing behind

Saturdays are dark when the sky meets the ocean

Waves become blurry as i loose my devotion

Now i walk and die

For something to cherish a melody

Burn the bridges that you cross

Leave nothing behind

Burn the bridges that you cross

Leave nothing behind